


Sorites Paradox

by Effenay



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Before season 1, Cameos, Crimes & Criminals, Dystopia, Dystopic Utopic society, Early Sybil days, Inspired by 1984, May Or May Not Be Continued, Other, Plot Fic, Pre-Canon, Psycho pass cameos, Psychological Drama, Psychological Trauma, Rating May Change, Social theory, Suicidal Thoughts, Summary is subject to change, individual and society, inspired by Brave New World, politics at its finest really, slight AU, story subject to change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-08-12 03:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7919236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Effenay/pseuds/Effenay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>20 years prior to the cannon series, set in the world of Psycho Pass after the 10 year reformation and the abolishing of the police department. Told in the perspective of Horigome Akira an office manager in a company and his sister Maki, a traumatized teen who was condemned as a latent criminal. The two siblings fight in their own wars to survive within the rapid changes of the world they live in.<br/>Slight AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is just an experiment that I've been meaning to write for a long time. I'm not entirely philosophically inclined nor am I a big intellect for this series, but I've always wanted to see what it was like in the days before sybil during Masaoka's time. If I get enough hits, I might consider following this up and keep this story going if it had enough love. As a fan of Psycho Pass, I tried to be as loyal as possible, regarding the mood and setting of the world of Psycho Pass with sprinkles of my own interpretations. I hope at most, I could shed some light to Gen Urobuchi's world in a pre-dystopic-utopic world of holographs and cyber-technology in the view of a different perspective. Some of the information added into the mix was based off the info I got from the psycho-pass website (no english available and had to rely on google translate since I don't understand japanese). I don't know how far would I go with this fic, and if ever there was enough people to actually bother reading this fic, I might consider following this up. Anyhow, enough talk, Enjoy my interpretation of Psycho-Pass in the earlier years.
> 
> Also: please, please, I don't mind if purist is gonna make some pointers to this cause I want to be as true to the series as possible.

Horigome Akira in his wake heard footsteps running up the veranda. In the vast city filled with holo lights and conventional robots that served the common man, the Horigome household took no pleasure in relying on these confounded machinery.

And so unlike other normal households in the late 21st century, their household had no security, no automatic sliding doors, no assistant AIs, no holographic room decors. Just the standard lights and bare walls with the standard interior needs.

“Horigome Maki!” A voice hollered from the other side of the door, “Open up the door! You are to be taken into custody.”

 _Bastard._ Akira expected them to come. For years, his sister was a victim of bullying; reducing her to a state of depression. For three years straight she confined herself within the space of their bare walls, unable to rely on everyone other than her brother. A week ago she decided to be brave and take a step outside her tower of a home, wanting to change for the better.

_And yet, why the hell is she going to be taken into custody?! It doesn’t make any sense!_

“Onii-san,” his sister clutched his arm. She was barely 15 years old. The lifestyle that she had lived with for three year made her frail. “What’s going to happen to me?”

“Maki,” Akira turned to his sister. “I won’t let them take you, do you understand?”

“Open up the door!”

The officer at the door slammed the door harder.

“Onii-san!”

“It’s going to be alright!”

Akira held his sister tighter and turned towards the windows.

_Is there a way out?_

Judging by the size of the window, he felt that she might be able to escape from at least one of them.

“This way,” he hissed, taking her by the hand and dragged her to the widest window of the house.

He slide the window open and kicked the fly-screen off the window frame.

“Aki-nii, what are you–!”

“Shut up and get out of here,” he said, grabbing her by the waist and propping her to the window’s edge. “You get out first, I’ll follow you.”

“What about our stuff?” she asked as she climbed over the window.

“Don’t worry about that now,” he said. “Besides, I already have everything planned out.”

The sound of their front door was kicked down to the ground. Since they were on the second floor, Maki panicked at the height from the window.

“Maki!” Akira hissed. “Jump over that box on the wall.”

“I can’t!” she cried, “It’s too high from here!”

“Just do it!”

With his urging, she leapt from the window, landing the box, only to have her bend the knee on the impact. The sound of the clash of metal brought the neighbour’s dog to bark in its wake.

_Shit._

“Move aside, Maki! I’m going to jump!”

Maki scurried to the side as Akira made the jump onto the metal box. Since his figure was larger than her, he felt the box tilt on an angle when he made the impact.

Wasting no time, he picked his sister up and carried her over his shoulder and leapt from the box to the ground.

“There she is!”

Akira looked up and saw two heads of middle-aged men sticking out onto the window.

“Aki-nii,” she stuttered.

“It’s going to be alright!”

He made the run for it towards the end of the street, turning towards an alleyway as he followed the plan that he set in his mind two days prior.

Before he realized it, five drones had blocked his escape route, wearing holos of the Ministry of Welfare and Safety Bureau Mascots.

_“Please refrain from exiting the premises. Turn around and wait for–“_

“Shit!”

 Akira knew he had nowhere else to run.

“Aki-nii,” she said, her voice quivered. “I… I don’t want to die…”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Akira turned around and saw two men pointing a gun at their direction. It was unusual for a firearm as it had no barrel nor did it even look like a standard Taser either.

Their eyes glowed blue in the darkness of the night.

He made the run for it, moving his sister from his shoulder to his arms as he did so.

A blue-light flashed from the weapon and hit him by the shoulder. Immediately he fell to the ground, causing his sister to roll on the floor meters away from him.

“AKI-NII!”

“…Run… Maki…” he could barely say the words.

The girl scrambled to her feet. Another flash of light was seen before he lost consciousness. Before he completely blacked out, he heard the sound of a body slump to the floor.


	2. Interrogations and Humble beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and possible future chapters may be subject to change. So, for now, let me know your thoughts or I'll just leave it out like another can of beans. I really suck at this as I do not know the psycho pass universe like the back of my hand unlike other peeps, so plot holes and more plot holes are bound to happen or I'll just abandon this altogether.

The pale girl fluttered her eyes open, the first thing she saw was a three digit number and a color hue that flashed a lime-green.

_Where am I?_

She stirred herself up, assessing her surroundings. Medical white walls and a large glass window for a door. The cell was half the size of her own room, the glare of the cold light gave her an impression she was confined to a place similar to an asylum likened to that of the old western films she and her brother had watched.

She immediately stood up from the bed and leaned against the glass.

She tapped on the glass and pressed the side of her face against the glass, leering towards the hallways in hopes of giving her an overview of where she was confined in.

A droid rolled past her view.

Maki flinched at the sight of the small machinery; her breathing hitched as her heart had begun to palpitate.

_No._

She took a step back from the glass door.

_NO!_

She ran to corner of the room, grabbing the thin blanket from the bed and wrapped herself with it.

Immediately the hue displayed on the glass darkened to an emerald green shade. The number adjacent to it rose even higher.

“Uh,” she tried to swallow her cries.

_Aki-nii._

The memories of that dreaded day flashed in her mind.

_Aki-nii!_

The images of assistant droids engulfing her in her mind made her curl into a ball.

“Aki-nii…” she hiccupped as the tears began to fall. “Where are you?”

The white-lights flashed red inside her cell, startling her as she heard a mechanical voice announce:

_“Crime-coefficient rising in cell number 109.”_

Immediately, a nurse and the android approached her cell, opening a slot as she panicked.

“Stay away!” Maki screamed, hugging her knees.

“Horigome-san, please calm down,” the nurse said.

“Where is he?” she cried, “Where is my brother?!”

 The nurse quickly checked the ipad in his hand.

“Your brother has been taken into custody by the Ministry of Welfare and Safety,” the nurse said, “Horigome-san, please calm down and focus on making a full recovery on your psycho pass.”

“I need him here!”

“Horigome-san…”

“I need him!”

The nurse then raised his wrist and pressed the corner of the wrist-link. The android then opened a slot on the glass and released clouds of gas into the cell.

The second Maki inhaled the cloud of smoke, she coughed as her vision begun to blur.

“What… is… this…”

“I’m sorry, Horigome-san,” the nurse said, “Your mental state is at a critical condition. Please refrain from taking desperate moves and focus on your recovery.”

_Why is this happening?_

She thought as her body grew heavy by the second.

_Why is it that I…_

Her body slumped to the ground, unmoving and unconscious.

The android then immediately sucked the sleeping gas back in. When the cell was clear from the gas, the glass door slid open, allowing the nurse to pick up the girl in his arms and onto the bed.

“Poor girl,” he said, fixing the blanket to drape it over her body.

Just before he was about to turn around, he caught sight of the glistened cheeks from her tears. He frowned and wiped them with the corner of his sleeve.

He then turned away, exiting the cell to make his rounds in observing the other cell blocks.

* * *

 

“Horigome Akira, was it?”

Akira grimaced at the face of the inspector before him.

“Do you know why you are here?” the auburn-haired inspector asked.

“Skip the formalities,” Akira retorted. “I know how the whole thing works. You’re going to get me to confess to you guys of the things I’ve done and why I did them.”

“No,” the inspector shook his head, “if it was ten years ago, we would have followed that protocol. The MWSB doesn’t work like that anymore.”

The young man looked at the inspector in the eye.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

The inspector scratched his head.

“How out-dated are you?” he said, “I’m surprised someone like you even existed.”

Akira glared at the man.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The inspector sighed as he grabbed a tablet adjacent to him on the table.

“Horigome Akira,” the man read aloud, “Age 27. Born in Tokyo-ho; currently employed in Xx Company. When you were 20 years old your parents died in an accident; died due to android malfunctions. You have a sister; our current records show that she was last seen three years ago when she was 11. We haven’t had an updated on her records other than the fact that she was last admitted to a child psychologist a few months before she stopped attending school. She was last seen 2 days ago, wandering in the shopping district.”

The young man gritted his teeth.

“Yes,” Akira said, “What of it? Just how far are you going to pry into my private life?”

“I’m surprised that a young man such as yourself truly believes in that stuff in this day and age.”

“Look,” Akira slammed his hand to the table, “my sister did nothing wrong. Have you’ve seen how frail she is? She hasn’t left the house for three years for Christ’s sake! I need to see her!”

The inspector frowned.

“You really don’t know how the system works do you?”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

Akira stood up from his seat.

“She was bullied in her school for 5 years!” he lashed out, “Five years and no teacher nor parent would even try to stop that. It’s gotten so bad that she can’t even trust a freaking robot; she’s scared to death about them! Every time she is nearby a freaking android, her psycho pass rises. You think I don’t know how the system works?”

“Ah, so you do know,” the inspector said nonchalantly. “Good. I was beginning to worry that I might be talking to a living time capsule.”

“Look, enough with the jokes,” Akira said. “If I’m not here to confess my crimes, then why the hell am I here?”

“You’re here because you are a potential threat to society.”

The inspector darkened his tone of voice as he continued.

“Your psycho pass hue has darkened to navy blue. Your crime coefficient has risen above the norm. It’s not the matter of whether you are innocent or not, but in the near future if we leave you be; you will pose a threat to the average citizen.”

“Ha,” Akira scoffed, “Believe me, that’s not going to happen. I’m not going to let that happen.”

“It’s not a matter of choice. You have been condemned as a latent criminal.”

Akira laughed.

_This has got to be a joke. First off, they don’t even know who I am._

“What’s so funny?”

“No,” he shook his head, “You guys clearly haven’t read my records properly. If you know so much about me, then why is it that you haven’t even noticed a pattern according to _your_ records?”

This time the inspector looked at him dubiously.

“What do you mean?”

“My color may be dark now; my crime coefficient may be over the line, but I have this one quirk that I possess.”

Akira then slammed his two hands onto the table, leaning in close to the inspector before him.

“Whenever I get riled up like what happened last night, my psycho pass and crime coefficient rises,” Akira explained. “But within a short span of days, I easily recover. My number goes down bellow the average. Now isn’t that convenient?”

"I highly doubt you understand how crime coefficients and psycho passes work," the detective said dubiously. "Cases like you will eventually find themselves in the isolation ward due to your fluctuating numbers. When you psycho pass and crime coefficient ceases to jump from one scale to the next, that's when we're able to determine whether you are a latent criminal or an average citizen with social-psychological problems."

"I don't care about what happens to me," Akira said firmly. "Why the hell is my sister judged as a potential threat to society? For as long as I could remember, she was a fragile thing of a kid; unable to defend herself as she allowed those brats to mess with her till she was no longer able to talk to me for a whole year."

“Horigome-san,” the detective scratched his head. “When was the last time you had your sister’s hue checked?”

“Does it even matter?” the young man scoffed. “She hasn’t taken a step outside of the house for three years, remember?”

“Then I guess you aren’t aware of the fact that Horigome Maki’s crime coefficient had risen to the status of a latent criminal after the cymatic scans had scanned her in the shopping district.”

His complexion grew pale upon hearing that.

“We are yet to interrogate your sister when the paralyzer is worn out,” the detective continued. “But for now, we’ll make do with your side of the story.”

For a while, Akira didn’t say anything.

“…Tell me,” he said, his voice mellowed to a calm state. “My sister, by any chance; was she… how many drones are there in that specific shopping district?”

The detective gave a longer sigh.

“One on every corner at least.”

Akira gritted his teeth.

“Dammit,” he grunted.

“…Is there something you’d like to share with us, Horigome-san?”

_Where do I even begin with this?_

“My sister… Maki,” he said, his chest gripped with pain. “Whenever she sees a drone, she goes berserk. She loses her head. Did I not say that she was has an android phobia? Each time she sees a droid that moves automatically, she loses it! But to have her crime coefficient rise to that extent…”

“Horigome-san,” the detective darkened his tone. “You’re liable for your sister’s well-being. The fact that you allowed your sister’s psycho pass to deteriorate to that extent only tells me that you aren’t capable of taking care of her despite you being of legal age.”

“Do you have a child, detective?”

“Excuse me?”

Akira clawed at the fabric of his pants.

“After my parents died, no relative was willing to take care of her. No one wanted to have a child with a cloudy psycho pass.” His voice quivered, his eyes slowly glistened under the light. “All they thought about was what kind of person she’d become when she grows up. Everyone turned a blind eye. Everyone wasn’t willing to accept her. Everyone. Except for me. I made sacrifices for her. I did everything I could just to calm her down. Have you ever raised a child who, at such an early age, would already think about taking her own life?”

“Horigome-san-”

“You said that I allowed my sister’s psycho pass to deteriorate,” Akira swallowed hard at the lump building at his throat. “You would carelessly accuse me of doing such a thing when all I’ve ever done was shielding her from the very thing that made her psycho pass dark in the very first place!”

“Horigome-san!”

This time the detective slammed his hand onto the table, earning a jolt from Akira.

“It is because you allowed her to confine herself from society her psycho pass has darkened to such an extent!” the auburn-haired man reprimanded. “When you ‘shielded’ her from the world, it only made her more vulnerable and unable to withstand its elements.”

“You think it’s so easy to get her to do that?”

“I’m not saying that–”

“Look, I don’t care about what you think, but you don’t realize how serious the issue really is. She had no one to lean on but me. Everyone else abandoned her but me. When I tried to take her out, she couldn’t stand it. It took a long time to regain her trust in me because of that.”

“I’m saying that you sheltered the poor kid to a point that she can no longer stand on her own two feet.”

Akira lifted his chin, taken aback at the revelation.

He bitterly reviewed of the things he’s done for her. The things he’s given and the things he’s done for her. Even teaching her of some of the basic education whenever he had the chance to do so. In the corner of his mind, he knew he was over-protective, allowing her to seclude herself from the world.

_But even so-_

_“Aki-nii.”_

He recalled the day when Maki thanked him for the very first time. Declaring her resolve to face the unknown world on her own.

_“I’ll be back home soon.”_

  _-I don’t think I’ve done the wrong thing._

“Well then,” Akira leaned against his chair, turning his face to the wall as he rubbed tears from his eyes with the back of his fist. “Seeing how much of a cold-hearted bastard you are, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

The auburn-haired man opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the sound of his wrist-link bleeping a notification.

“Excuse me,” the detective frowned as he exited the interrogation room.

As soon as the man left the room, Akira slammed his head to the table.

_If I don’t get to her soon, there’s no telling what might happen when I’m not around._

He glanced under the table, his eyes fixed at the cuffs that was binding him.

 _Mom, Dad,_ he thought in his regret, _I’m so sorry. I failed to protect her._

He gritted his teeth, his hands clenched into a tight fist, trembling at his own regret.

“-san. Horigome-san!”

The young man swiftly raised his head, his mind snapped out of thoughts.

“It looks to that you will be confined to this place a little longer,” the detective said standing inches away from the table. “The way things are, we won’t be able to talk to your sister until she regains consciousness.”

Akira stood up.

“Where is she?”

“Horigome-san, please sit down.”

“Where is Maki?” he asked again as he slumped to his seat.

“Horigome Maki was sent to the rehab stress-care isolation center. Based on her mental state at this point, she will be confined for such a time until she is in a stable condition. Until then, you’ll be hanging around here for a little longer.”

His face fell to a grave frown.

“Based on your reaction, I assume you’re going to ask if there are drones hanging around the facility,” the detective said coldly. “The answer to that question, yes, there are drones that assist the patients and everyone else who works there.”

He felt the temperature drop down to his skin.

“You have to get her out of there!” he panicked.

“I realized,” the detective deadpanned and cleared his throat. “But I am so sorry, it’s not in my department to give cases like her special treatment.”

“Screw that! At the very least, notify to somebody who works there of her condition! If I’m not around, she can’t calm herself down! You have to take me to her!”

“Argh,” the man groaned. “Horigome-san, will you please pipe down for once? There’s no need to get riled up about it.”

Akira clenched his teeth, clawing at his own fist till it bled.

_How the hell do you expect me to be calm about it?_

"Listen," the detective cleared his throat loudly. "Based on what you've told us, I suspect that by now they would have figured out what's causing her psycho pass deterioration. But due to the lack of information regarding her progress or state of mind, it will take some time for the information to circulate formally among the staff members."

"Like. I said. Get. Her. Out. Of there."

_Or are you going to throw me back in there again?_

He expected the detective to resort to deviating the subject, but to his surprise, the detective sighed in defeat.

"Horigome-san. I understand how you feel. I really do. And I'm only doing my job and I personally don't like doing these things either. I can empathize your sentiments towards the reformation. But even if I want to help you, its out of my hands."

"You can save your heart of the cards speech, I'm not up for it."

"Alright then," the detective pulled back the chair and sat on it. "Why not I make you a proposition?"

The young man darted a dubious glare.

"You stay here, like a good boy and await till the higher ups make the decision," the detective began. "And maybe then I could give a good word with the managers to the facility about your sister's condition. Is that enough for you, Horigome-san?"

His eyes grew wider by the second.

_Is this..._

"There's gotta be some trick," Akira muttered dubiously.

"I'm a man of my word."

"Oh, are you now?"

A bleep was heard from the detective's wrist-link. The middle-aged man flicked up his wrist and immediately frowned.

The detective then switched the notification off and returned to face Akira.

"If you're still not satisfied, I could go so far as to update you on your sister's condition. Any further than that would be breaching into another territory."

A clacking sound of violent knocks could be heard from the mirrored-glass window, bringing Akira to jolt in his seat.

"I could go as far as that if you're not satisfied with what I proposed earlier."

The detective looked at him in the eye.

It was unfathomable.

"...You're willing to go that far-"

He had to make sure.

"-for a stranger you had just detained?"

 "Do you want me to change my mind?"

The window continued to shudder violently, as the knocking threatened to shatter the glass.

Akira turned towards the reflected glass, giving him an impression that someone was definitely not pleased.

The young man then lowered his chin.

"Promise me that you will keep your word," Akira spoke darkly. "And I'll hold onto my end of the bargain."

"That's a deal," the detective smirked.

Almost immediately, the door swung open to reveal a very displeased detective.

_I'm guessing that's the commissioner?_

Akira couldn't help but assume that were the case.

"Masaoka."

The senior detective spoke, tilting his head as a gesture to leave the room.

The detective sighed as he scratched his head.

"Horigome-san," he said before he made his exit. "Be a good adult and just sit tight a little while longer and I'll keep my end of the bargain."

"Is that your word as a detective?"

Akira asked dubiously.

"Masaoka. Come here. Right now."

The senior commanded.

"No," the middle-aged man shook his head at Akira. "I give you my word as a man."

The detective stood from his seat and turned to exit the room.

Akira's eyes widened, surprised without a doubt that he managed to make some form of compromise with the authorities.

_Its only a matter of time._

His thoughts turned back to his sister, imagining what kind of hell she must be going through.

_Hang in there, Maki._

He clasped his two hands together, his head hung low reverently; praying to any deity that could answer his pleas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I finalized this chapter. I need to know what people think. I know that some people have read this chapter before and will notice on some changes. I just thought re-releasing this chapter would at least allow some other people who read it before to see the updated version of it.


	3. Reality and Realisations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hesitated to keep this fic going. but since people have been generous for three kudos, maybe I will keep going with this. So, now, let's see how far I can go with this.

“Good morning, Horigome-san.”

The frail girl flinched, curling herself into a small ball against the white wall.

“Ah, sorry,” the nurse apologized. “Sorry if I frightened you. Your breakfast is ready.”

A drone rolled into her view by the glass door.

She gasped as she pulled the blanket over her head.

“Stay away!” she cried.

“Ah… but you haven’t eaten anything,” the nurse said warily.

“I’d rather die!”

“Horigome-san-”

“Get that thing away from me!”

The nurse opened his mouth, but no words came out as he turned to the drone next to him.

“Horigome-san… could it be… you’re afraid of drones?”

The girl didn’t answer as she clenched at the fabric of her sleeve.

The man frowned at the silence and flipped the tablet into his view, commanding the drone through the device to hand the tray over to his hands. Upon receiving the tray of food, the drone then rolled away to the next cell block.

He looked up and saw the girl lifting her head up, watching the entire scenario taking place.

When their eyes met, he gave her a small smile.

“There,” he said. “The drone is gone. It’s safe now.”

He pressed a button to open the slot for him to slide the tray into it.

“Here,” he said courteously. “Your breakfast.”

Maki slowly unfurled herself and slipped off her bed, treading careful towards the glass door.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll be alright in no time.”

She didn’t respond to his words and took the tray cautiously.

Seeing that she had received it, he nodded in satisfaction. A split second later, a drone rolled passed him within a blink of an eye, bringing her to freeze in her position. The nurse saw her hand trembling in her grip.

“Horigome-san, please calm down,” the nurse said quickly. “I’m sure it won’t harm you…”

The girl collapsed, spilling the contents of her meal all over the floor.

“Horigome-san!”

The nurse then quickly pressed the switch to have her door opened while signalling the alarm to call for assistance. Two other nurses appeared hastening towards the door.

“What happened?” one of them asked.

“Patient number 109 collapsed. We need to have her transferred to the medical ward.”

“What the hell were you doing, Kazu?”

“I didn’t do anything!” the nurse said defensively. “She must be malnourished. She hasn’t eaten a thing for an entire day!”

Not before long, an auto-stretcher drone entered the room. The nurse who took care of the girl picked her up and placed her onto the stretcher.

“Oi, oi, Kazu,” the head nurse who had reprimanded him earlier warned, “You should just let the drones handle it.”

“Sorry,” the man said quickly. “I’m still not used to the procedure.”

The head nurse sighed.

“Look,” she said, “I’ve been working this place for a while now, and I’ll tell you, don’t get attached to these latent criminals. They’ll only break your heart.”

“What are you talking about?” the man said. “She’s 15 years old. I wouldn’t dare do something like that. What do you take me for?”

The head nurse looked at him dubiously.

“Newbies like yourself ought to follow protocol,” she said as she left exited the room. “Do the wrong thing, you’ll be liable for any damages that could happen.”

The other nurse who had remained silent for the most part reluctantly followed, leaving the man alone. As soon as the cleaning drone rolled in, he couldn’t help but scratched his head.

* * *

 

In the corner of his eye, Masaoka spotted a drone pushing a cart full of flat-screen monitors, Some damaged on its surface; some were just generally broken by the weight of the other monitors that toppled over each other. In the opposite direction, another drone carried over packaging boxes, taped and had the tag 'fragile' on the corner of some of them.

"I can't keep up with these constant upgrades," the senior detective sighed. "Within less than a decade, they're already scrapping out all the three-year old models."

Masaoka was writing down his report, covering the case of the Horigome siblings. It was only three days since the interrogation and already they've been updated on Horigome Akira's slow psycho-pass recovery. Just within a matter of days, 10 digits of the older sibling's crime coefficient dropped down. Twenty more digits lower, the man would no longer hold the status of a latent criminal.

His senior continued on. "By the time we finish up these reports and hand them over to the chief, who knows, maybe he'll be set free from all charges. Not that any of these kids have done anything wrong in the first place."

After the reformation, they abolished the police system out of the country, having a handful of detectives transferred in the Ministry of Welfare and Safety Bureau. With drones replacing 80 percent of the police departments' positions, there were those who were unlucky enough to fall out of the system's functions.

A subordinate from another division stormed into the room. The two detectives looked up from their screens.

"Th-This is absurd," the man huffed. "Horigome Akira... he... his psycho-pass lowered down to 36. It's crazy... At this point... we can't detain him... Not with a number like this."

"His crime coefficient," the senior officer demanded. "We can still detain him with a clear psycho pass for as long as his crime coefficient is above the 100 mark-"

"Its 89, sir."

"Huh?"

"It's dropped at a tremendous rate, I can't believe it myself."

* * *

Akira lay there on the floor of his cell, his eyes focused on fluoride-white ceiling. He thought about it for days; the things he could do with the situation where he was at. After the loss of his parents, the only thing he prioritized the most was the welfare of his sister. Now that she's detained, with no one else to rely on; he couldn't help but fear for the worst.

He scratched his head in frustration. After a span of 7 years trying to console the only family member left in his household, he felt like he wanted to give up. The sacrifices he made, the risks he had to take to make her feel at ease; he felt he was at the pinnacle of everything that had been building up. He wanted to give up, but he wasn't strong enough to be firm with her.

Akira then took deep breaths, returning his thoughts to what his parents would have wanted him to do. The oath he made to his parents' grave became the only pillar he could ever rely on, memorizing every rule, every social graces that his parents had embedded into his lifestyle.

"Horigome."

He raised his head to find the auburn-haired inspector standing before him.

"Looks like your free to go."

Akira said nothing but sat up, crossed his legs on the hard floor.

"You don't look so surprised," the detective commented.

"I am," he said calmly. "I'm just not showing it."

"Well, it looks like your crime coefficient and psycho-pass has stabilized and managed to recover to an acceptable level." The detective informed him, appearing as though he couldn't comprehend the facts of what he just said. "The way things are, we're no longer able to detain you any longer than this."

Akira couldn't care less. Oddly enough, after being riled up for two days he often mellowed down to a point where nothing seemed to faze him.

"As I said," Akira stared at the ceiling. "Put me in a position where I get riled up like what had just happened a few days ago, give me a few days to cool down and my psycho-pass recovers within a span of days."

With that said, he stood up from the floor and shook the dust off his clothes.

"So when exactly will I be released?" he asked.

"Not after we ask a few more questions regarding this whole case," the detective answered. "Show me your hands."

The detectives raised a pair of handcuffs before him, telling him that he needed to be bound on the way to the interrogation room.

Akira reluctantly raised his wrists, allowing the detective to lock the cuffs onto his wrists.

The detective stepped aside away from the cell door, letting Akira exit his cell first. After the cell door slid shut, the two walked along the hallway, with Akira taking note of the surmount of cells within his view. Almost every cell had a resident in his view; some sitting in the corner of the room, a few lying in bed, a handful leaning against the wall with clear expressions of anguish and forlorn.

"Just how far has this society fallen?" Akira was in a mood to ask as he was sickened at the expressions each detained individual had worn. "When I first heard that the judicial system was suddenly abolished, I thought that the aptitude system would be in charge of making that decision whether a person was guilty of a crime or not."

"It's now called the _Sybil_ System," the detective corrected him. "Judging by your words, you must have been one of the last students who were taught by the old curriculum."

 “The old curriculum, huh,” Akira muttered.

“You’re awfully talkative for a man who was just detained,” the detective remarked, a slight sense of agitation could be heard in his voice.

“I would say the same to you,” Akira retorted. “I’m not normally like this. But for some reason, I get the feeling you hate your job more than anything at the moment.”

“Watch yourself,” he warned. “You’re in no position to speak to me like that.”

Akira pressed his lips together to a thin line, reluctantly following the man’s words. Perhaps he couldn’t help but take note of the way the detective had ignored the other detective’s refute towards his proposition. Upon noticing that, Akira assumed that was the case.

"Horigome Maki is currently too unstable to see anyone at the moment," the detective stopped at his tracks. "She's currently being monitored closely by staff members. It didn't take them long to realize the cause of her psycho-pass deterioration. However, due to her status, I highly doubt they'd give her the luxury for a full stress-care treatment."

Akira in turn furrowed his brow.

"I just thought you would like to know," the detective added.

After a short pause, the detective continued walking down the hall walked a few paces ahead of Akira.

"Thank you..." Akira murmured.

The man ahead of him turned his head slightly to the side.

"I'm only keeping my end of the bargain," he said.

* * *

The sound of beeping tingled in her ears amidst the darkness. Her body was inexplicably heavy for her to push herself up. The feel of fabric underneath her was soft and thin. The feel of a blanket draped over her body then brought her to assume that she was home, in her bedroom, asleep as she would estimate how many hours have passed since the morning classes have started.

 _“How long are you going to keep being this way?” s_ he heard her brother speak. _“At the very least, can’t you at least do something here while I’m gone?”_

She groaned in response.

 _“Maki,”_ her brother said, _“It’s already two years now since you’ve gone out. I know it’s hard, but, isn’t two years long enough for people to forget and move forward?”_

Upon hearing those words her heart began to palpitate as a surge of an angry rage filled her entire system. She hated her classmates. She hated her teachers. She hated her family. The very idea of having them moving forward only fueled her rage.

Her eyes flung open as she sat up, gasping as she found herself on a medical bed; numerous tubes that tangled around her body, one of them clinging unto her arm and who knows what other parts of her body it latched onto.

She assessed her surroundings, finding herself within the space of the cool white walls. Her heart monitor on the side indicating her health status; her psycho pass hue had another shade of green. The three digit number on the screen then brought her to a realization as to why she was confined within that small space.

_Crime coefficient 150._

When she was still attending classes, her anticipation of getting hurt by her classmates became the only thing she had learned; unable to comprehend the basics of what her teachers had taught her. However, one thing that embedded into her memory was the concept of psycho-passes and latent criminals. Having being taught the basics of how society worked at such an early age became the sole reason for the bullying.

An indoctrination of sorts as they were told that those who had a crime coefficient close to a 100 was a risk of becoming a latent criminal.

 _“Don’t be silly,”_ her brother had often told her whenever she threw a fit. _“You are who you are. Even though what you do is a fraction of what you are capable of, it doesn’t prove that you are prone to committing crimes every single time.”_

And yet, despite everything that he had done; at the time, all she had ever done was killing the only ally in her life with her own words.

A door slid open to reveal a man in a nurse's uniform, pushing a cart as he entered the room.

"How are you feeling, Horigome-san?" he asked as he pushed the cart to the side of her bed.

She didn't reply, her eyes fixed at the doorway.

"You've been unconscious for two days," the nurse explained. "We have been notified of your condition, however, there's a limit to how much we could provide to cater to your needs. Seeing that you are awake now, it won't be long till you'll be transferred to another cell."

With the corridor in full view, there stood a drone a few feet away from her. She broke out a cold sweat as she chest heaved heavily.

The nurse blinked and followed her gaze to the doorway. Immediately he slid the door shut and almost immediately, she relaxed her shoulders; her hands quivering as she took in deep breaths.

"Sorry," he said. "I forgot about that. Anyway, as I've said, we could only do so much as to transfer you to another cell block where you can't see the drones making their rounds."

"How long does a latent criminal serve their sentence?"

The nurse looked at her with questioning eyes.

"Latent criminals, how long will it take for them to be released?" she asked again.

"...I'm sorry, Horigome-san," the nurse said, clearly confused of her words. "But I think you must be mistaken. Latent criminals will be confined to this place for as long as they have a high crime coefficient and a deteriorated psycho-pass."

Maki's vision blurred, her eyes stung as saltwater welled up, streaks of warm tears rolled down her cheeks. She hiccuped at the lump on her throat that had built itself up.

"Ah... H-hori...gome...san...?"

She threw her head to her knees, clutching the fabric that veiled her body as she wailed. Her tears soaked the blanket as she buried her head deeper to her thighs.

"I'm sorry," she cried out. "I'm so sorry..."

"Horigome-san..."

"I'm so sorry."

She repeated the words over and over. She wanted to apologize for everything. For living. For being a burden to her brother's life. For being born with a poor resistance towards the opinion of others. She continued to cry out endlessly as she kept apologizing to the only ally she ever had.

 _"I failed you,"_ she remembered her brother sobbing before the family shrine one time.  _"I'm so sorry. Mother. Father. I couldn't raise her properly."_

She wanted to apologize. It took her long enough to realize the value in his efforts. But by then, it was already too late.

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered. "Onii-san..."

She felt a sudden weight on her head; but she couldn't care less of what it was, never realizing that the nurse was patting her head as his way of silently consoling her.


	4. Boiling Frog

The world was chaos in his earlier years. Filled with anxiety; the amount of social unrest caused by the foreign wars and rumours of wars. His parents had often kept him informed about the world; teaching him the basics of what to expect if war was to come to the country. Being taught the basics of world history, Akira was without a doubt a believer in progress of human history.

But as the years piled itself into a span of almost two decades, reality pulled himself apart. One by one, the world he lived in slowly chipped away the fundamental basics of what was taught in his childhood; crumbling every notion of what he believed in one law at a time.

Before he knew it, he was alone. Alone and unable to share the value of what he had learned to others; as others would dismiss these notions as something that is considered _“dangerous”_ to one’s psycho-pass.

He stood by his parents’ shrine; lighting up one stick of incense as he struck the ceremonial bowl lightly, chiming it as though to awaken the spirits who resided in the stone.

In his moment of reflection, he thought about what he could say. Second thoughts on how he could approach his predicament without breaking the law.

“Horigome-kun?”

He raised his head and recognized the short-bobbed hair.

“Eleanor,” he said as she trotted to his side.

“I thought I’d find you here,” she said, her mismatched blue and hazel brown eyes reflected a clear concern towards him. “After I heard about what had happened, I was hoping to see you in the office. But since you weren’t there, I figured that you’d be here.”

“Thank you for your concern,” he said nonchalantly. “But you don’t need to concern yourself with other people’s affairs.”

“Could I help it? If anything, I’ll be left with those old geezers if you stop showing your face in the office.”

He mirthlessly chuckled.

Eleanor Arden was a friend he met through his university years. Her father was one of the last remaining foreigners who resided within the country before the isolation policy had taken its full effect. With a westerner’s blood running through her veins; she became the subject of suspicion at one point in her life due to the effects of the growing tensions between Japan and the foreign powers. Having to grow up differently in comparison to the average households, Akira and Eleanor found themselves drawn to each other for such a time.

“How’s Maki-chan doing?” she asked timidly.

He shook his head.

“I see,” she said.

“Eleanor,” he sighed. “Even though it’s over between us, why do you keep coming back?”

“Don’t be full of yourself, Horigome-kun,” she snarled, “I’m already over that, so get off my case. As a _friend_ to a _friend,_ who wouldn’t be concerned about your well-being?”

“…Sorry,” he said despairingly. “I just… I can’t keep calm when problems keep piling up one after another. The way things are, I don’t know just how far I’ll be able to go with it.”

“…Aki.”

Whenever she called him by that name, he knew she was taking his words into account, like she had always done while they were in a relationship.

“Tell me what happened,” she said without any hesitation. “As a friend to a friend, at the very least tell me what’s eating you.”

Akira shifted his gaze to the shrine before him.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” he said as he buried his hands inside his pockets. “I don’t want to talk about it before my parents.”

The autumn breeze billowed, earning a shiver from the two. As they walked along the park nearby, he told her the events that had occurred a few days ago. With every word that rolled off his tongue, she listened to him intently. Upon settling onto a nearby bench; she offered to pay for their beverages from a vending machine nearby.

“Ele, you know that those things can’t be trusted,” he deadpanned. “The last time you paid, it refused to drop into the port.”

“When there’s a will, there’s a way,” she lauded as she walked up to the vending machine.

“Were you even listening to a word I said earlier?”

“Of course.”

She unzipped her purse and dropped coins into the slot, pressing the code of her purchase.

“So are you certain you don’t want anything?” she tilted her head to him.

“As I said,” he cleared his throat, “I don’t trust it.”

“Your loss,” she chimed.

An unusual sound sang out from the machine.

 _“Error: purchase unavailable?!”_ she read the digital notification aloud.

“I told you so,” Akira commented.

“Shut it, Aki,” She retorted. “If things don’t go your way; you’re either in the wrong lane, or you just have to take the extra measure!”

With that said, she backed up and made a roundhouse kick at the side of the machine. Immediately, the machine rumbled as two cans dropped into the take out port.

Akira couldn’t help but dropped his jaw at his friend’s ludicrous actions. Despite her rebellious side towards the world around her, she still managed to keep her psycho-pass intact.

“Somehow I wonder how on earth are you able to do these things without getting caught under the radar,” he muttered.

“Who knows.”

She limped her way to pick up the two objects from the port.

“Huh. Looks like we have a winner,” she said cynically as she read the labels.

Eleanor then tossed a can for him to catch. When he barely managed to catch it with his two hands he looked at the label _‘milk coffee’_ and saw a Commissa mascot printed on the can’s surface. Akira frowned at the image as his thoughts returned to his predicament.

“It’s funny,” he said glumly. “I wonder where I went wrong. Was I wrong, letting her be like that, despite everything that my parents had taught me? Everything that I’ve known and everything I’ve done; since when did my actions became perceived as invalid to the whole world?”

His friend sat down beside him, opening the warm can that labelled ‘ _corn soup;’_ a flavour he knew that neither of them liked to consume from the can. Although society favours her when it came down to opportunities, luck was something that was never granted on her behalf when it came to the things she wanted. Her face soured as soon as she gulped the beverage.

“I don’t know about you,” she said, exhaling as she reclined her seat. “I personally believe you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just that the world doesn’t give you credit for it. Yes, you could have been a little bit more firm with her; but based on what I know, she really is difficult to handle. But then again, this me being biased because I’m your friend. But the better question is–”

She darted her index finger onto his forehead.

“–What difference does it make between confining her in her room and confining her within the isolation ward?” she asked harshly. “If I had to choose, I would throw out both options and beg for an alternative.”

“That sounds just like you,” he hummed. “But unfortunately, being in the real world doesn’t always give you that luxury. You just have to play with the cards that you have.”

She gave him a pitiful stare.

“Please don’t,” he groaned. “That’s the last thing I’d want to see from you.”

She took another shot from (what he perceived as) the ‘foul’ flavoured beverage. She didn’t hesitate to show her disdain towards the artificially flavoured soup. Perhaps due to the amount of years they had known each other, they stopped bothering with this idea of appearances when they were alone.

“If you don’t like it, why bother choosing it? Or even drinking it for that matter.” he asked.

“I didn’t choose it, it just so happens that this was what I got in the end,” she said. “Besides, it’s a waste, so why throw it away when it’s already handed over to you?”

“We could have swapped.”

“But you hate this flavour.”

“I’m not that picky.”

She sculled the last drop of the beverage.

“So am I,” she said. “Anyway, I was going to say that if your circumstances occurred ten years ago, I think there would have been a chance to bail your sister out of there.”

“But It’s not ten years ago, its 2091,” he added.

“Indeed,” she agreed. “But you know, now that you brought this up, I can’t help but feel like the society as we know it is slowly leaving us behind.”

He eyed her profile as she stared out into the endless sky.

“Can you imagine how, within a span of years, already we’ve become less inclined to do more, letting ourselves drift to each of these changes; thinking it’s a thing worthy of praise,” she continued. “But by the time we are no longer young enough to accept a new wave of changes; without a doubt, I can’t help but wonder. How far are we willing to say ‘yes’ to everything until we reach that point where we have forgotten the very foundations that defines us as a society?”

“Hold up,” Akira raised his hand before her. “You lost me there. Are we still on the same page?”

“Well,” she tilted her head. “Not necessarily. It’s partially relevant to your case.”

“How?”

“Ever since the introduction of the aptitude system, people no longer need to worry so much about what job they’d take after graduating from university.” she sighed. “Safe to say that our generation benefitted from that system. You wouldn’t be a manager in your team if it wasn’t for that. But after the success of its algorithmic accuracies, people of our parents’ generation pushed it even further to make it so that it could calculate the measurement of our personal capabilities. Hence, the system we know as the Sybil system. Because people no longer trust a meagre politician’s policies, the system removed the concept of democracy and chose a leader for us. Because the judicial system was capable of corruption, the system scrapped out the idea of court cases since crime coefficients were more reliable compared to the guess work of a jury.”

“All these changes were taken down one by one, right under our very noses,” Eleanor continued. “Little by little, we are faced to a new reality that is slowly turning against our better judgement. Like the boiling frog metaphor.”

“Boiling frog?” Akira asked.

“Although the metaphor is no longer a relevant example since it’s relatively inaccurate,” she began. “But the metaphor goes that if you drop a live frog into a boiling pot, it jumps straight out of the pot. But if you put a frozen frog into the pot, slowly, as the water melts gradually, the frog wouldn’t notice the temperature shift and eventually it dies without ever realizing that the water was at a temperature that could kill it.”

Akira nodded slowly at his friend as he tried to digest every word.

“The point I’m making is how over the course of the years, someday soon, the world as we know it might turn into Orwell’s nightmare,” she said.

“1984,” Akira nodded, as he was familiar with the novel.

“The existence of latent criminals and compared to the ‘safe’ environment we are living in; our government needed two contrasting examples in order to reinforce the need for the system to have the last say on our decisions.”

“So how exactly does this help me with my predicament?” he asked.

“Ah,” she pouted her lips. “Sorry, I got carried away there. It’s just that I am frustrated after hearing what happened to Maki-chan and all. I mean, really, the fact that mercy is no longer a word that is applicable to how everything works could only tell me how far our country’s slowly becoming. Politeness and courtesies are only just holograms to hide how we really feel. They make us believe that we are slowly getting there to the utopia our ancestors have dreamed about, but in truth, it’s another form of hell to those who can’t adjust to the changes.”

Upon hearing her words, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you, Eleanor,” he said as he got up. “You have officially failed to console me.”

“Ah…” she bit her lip.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I think you just defined the very thoughts I had about this whole scenario.”

She stood up next to him and threw the empty can into the waste bin.

“Your milk coffee is getting cold,” she pointed to the can in his hands.

“Here,” he handed the can to her. “A consolation fee.”

She frowned.

“That one’s yours Akira, so take it.”

“I don’t like milk coffee,” he muttered.

“And I don’t like canned corn soup either,” she retorted.

“We can’t keep doing this forever you know.”

“Ho, and I’m not going to back down until you surrender.”

This earned her a chortle out of him. In response, she too started laughing with him. When the two of them settled, she made a sullen face.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What happened with Maki-chan, I’m really sorry to hear that,” she said. “I wonder if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “It was never your problem to begin with.”


	5. Unmeasured losses

Hiding underneath the covers of the thin sheet of fabric, Maki never knew what it truly meant to be alone. Until now that is. The white-washed walls had only served to plague her with each passing minute, her idea of what it must have felt like to be within a mental asylum based on the numerous fiction stories that her brother had shared with her.

In her earlier years, she was already exposed to numerous forms of literary materials; often ones that challenges or questions the mind of how we truly understand the world. At the age of ten, she thought that she understood the sentiments that Holden Caulfield held as she could relate the undying loneliness that ate him inside.

_But no one told me that it would be something as agonizing as this._

“Good morning, Horigome-san.”

Again, the same nurse who had been visiting her cell once a day dropped by to meet her by the glass door. An honest looking man who would always greet her with a beaming smile.

_Looks can deceive you._

She decided that his presence was no more than an irritation.

“Go away,” she muttered.

“I will,” he said. “But first you have to eat something.”

_I am not falling for that again._

She peaked through the opening of her blanket and saw no android next to him. A second later, an ominous growl gurgled in her stomach.

Maki pulled the blanket off her head and turned towards the nurse, only to see the nurse trying to stifle his laughter. The frail girl reddened.

“Sorry,” he said.

His limbs trembling with clear amusement. The nurse then took a deep breath and sighed.

“Anyway, your breakfast is ready,” he cleared his throat.

Warily she slipped off her bed and quickly grabbed the tray from the opening slot. Almost immediately she quickly returned to her bed and plonked the tray next to her.

“After we’ve been made aware of your condition, there’s been a suggestion that you should be given rehabilitation sessions with a specialist,” the nurse informed her.

She didn’t say a word as she watchfully assessed the food with caution.

“If you like, we can arrange for an appointment and-”

“I’m not interested,” she interjected his words with forlorn.

The nurse frowned a little but nodded in acceptance.

“Well then,” he turned his heel. “I’ll see you again, Horigome-san.”

As soon as the man left her sight, she turned to the tray of food. The choices provided wasn’t convincing enough for her enjoy, but with her stomach demanding more from her, she felt that she had no choice but receive it.

After one bite out of the clump of rice, immediately she found herself wolfing down the rest of the food; saltwater welled up in her eyes as she swallowed hard.

_It’s really no good._

An endless cycle. Just when she thought that she was ready to face the world; in the end, her resolve brought her back to zero. A basking of endless torcher that never ceases. In the end, the world never gave her a chance to live in the first place.

She hiccupped her as the bile of food threatened to choke her. Tears continue to rain down her cheeks to her lips as she unconsciously drank the little droplets that slipped into the corner of her mouth. The food remained tasteless in her tongue as her teeth broke them down to a swallowable size.

She hated it. Endlessly. Every bite she took, she hated it. She hated her body that demanded her to live; forcing her will to abide to its needs as her hand moved on its own to feed her stomach. As she swallowed every grain of rice, every pea, every article of food that was presented to her; she hated how she could easily give in to her weakness.

As soon as she swallowed the last portion of her meal, she wept. She looked up to the three digit number before her.

_Crime Coefficient 150._

A wave of an unending guilt washed over her.

_Just end me already._

* * *

 

“I’m sorry, but your request cannot be fulfilled.”

Akira raised his head and looked at the secretary before him.

“Please, I only need to see her at least this once,” he said again. “It’s been almost 2 weeks since she was sent here. I just want to know how she is. Please.”

The secretary gave him a pitiful frown and turned her eyes to the tablet screen. Her fingers danced on the screen, typing up the characters on the screen keys.

After a few seconds, her eyes returned to his steady gaze.

“Unfortunately we’ve been notified that Horigome Maki won’t be seeing anyone as of this point. I really am sorry I can’t help you there.”

He wearily nodded upon hearing that.

“Thank you… for telling me.”

His words felt empty as they slipped from his tongue.

As he turned around to leave, audible whispers could be heard from the administration office.

_“Poor thing.”_

_“He must have been very close with her to be able to make an effort to visit her every day.”_

_“Most family members would refuse to see them in fear of having their psycho pass cloud.”_

_Honestly,_ Akira scoffed. _Talking about it while the subject matter is still in the room. Some things never change._

He stepped outside of the facility, a surge of pain panged on his side; bringing him to clutch at the side of his abdomen.

_No good._

Another ulcer.

_Really. Not good._

He seethed his way to the car, gasping as he settled onto his seat. His stomach burned and rambled about, eating at his insides. The amount of stress and fear since the accident that killed his parents triggered his ulcers whenever he was in a state of anxiety.

_But it was never this bad before._

He opened the compartment beside him, taking out a strip of tablets. He cracked open one of them and chewed on it, swallowing its sediments and waited for it to take effect. The pangs of the amount of acid in his stomach brought him to lunge forward and slam his head to the steering wheel. He hugged his abdomen in his arms as he kept cursing at the pain in his insides.

A knock reverberated on the window on his side.

“Ah… sir?”

A muffled voice asked hesitantly.

“…Is… Is everything alright…?”

Akira could barely lift his head as he turned to his side of the window. He huffed as his hand reached for the power window button to open them.

“Is there anything that you need… anything in particular…?”

_What an honest person._

He thought as he wearily shook his head at the man’s words.

“I’m… I’m going to be alright,” he muttered, huffing between his words. “I’ve already… taken my medicine… so… don’t worry about it…”

He then eyed the name tag pinned on his uniform.

“You,” Akira then pointed at building behind the man. “Do you… work there?”

“Y-Yes,” the man stuttered. “Sir, are you alright? If you want I could call for an ambulance-”

“I need you to relay a message… to that girl inside that place…”

“Sir?”

“Tell her that her brother is waiting…” Akira then shook his head. “No… tell her… Maki… that I will come and see her… so… stay strong… and hang… in… there…”

He then felt the acid subsiding inside of him, at the same time, the taste of sour muck began to climb up to his throat.

He immediately opened the car door, bringing the man to step aside to allow the door to swing wide open.

Almost immediately, Akira then lunged to the edge of the car and spewed out onto the asphalt. He coughed out as he felt sicker at the stench.

“You need medical attention, right now!” the man spoke in clear haste and panic.

The man then took out his phone and begun to dial a number.

“Don’t… Don’t worry about it…” Akira said weakly. “This happens… a bit often… sometimes…”

“Hi, I need an ambulance…” the man said with his phone on his ear, ignoring Akira altogether. “Yes… No… not family… There’s this man… yes. Yes. There’s a man here who looks like he’s in pain in the abdominal area. He threw up just outside his car just then. He said that this happens a lot… Sorry, no, I don’t know him. I just happened to find him in his car… Yes. No. Yes. Yes. Okay. Thank very much.”

The man then turned to Akira.

“They’ll be coming this way. Just stay put.”

“There… really was no need…to do that,” Akira said as his chest kept rising and falling heavily.

“I can’t ignore it if someone is in a state of emergency,” the man insisted.

Judging by his appearance, the man must have been in his early twenties.

“But I was trying to…telling you,” Akira huffed. “That this is a normal occurrence… it could easily be fixed…”

“Even a healthy man could die out of a small abdominal pain,” the man then said.

“How pathetic,” Akira scoffed weakly.

His gaze then turned to the endless sky as he tried to even out his breathing. The fire that burned in his stomach slowly subsided by the effects of the medicine.

If it were not for the low tolerance in his body, he would have pursued the matter without a second thought; allowing his thoughts to continue to push forward towards the numerous plans and the long lists of consequences that would follow right after.

“…Um,” the man interrupted his wandering thoughts. “Y-you mentioned passing a message to a certain someone… could you tell me the name of this person…?”

Akira turned his head to the man before him.

“Kazu…yoshi…san… is it?” Akira read his name tag that was pinned on his uniform.

“Yes,” the man nodded anxiously.

Akira glanced his features from head to toe. Based on his assessment, he estimated that this man must have been a fresh out of university not long ago.

_Figures._

“Horigome Maki,” Akira then said. “That’s my sister’s name.”

The nurse blinked.

“Horigome… Maki…” the man parroted the name.

The churning of his stomach ceased, slowly taking him at ease. Taking in a deep breath, he turned to the side of his car and saw a small drone before him, cleaning up the mess he made on the asphalt.

He took one good look at the small entity and was reminded of his sister’s predicament.

_There really is no way for her to live in this new society now, can she?_

“Um…” The man fidgeted before him. “Horigome Maki… do you mean the girl who was put into custody almost two weeks ago?”

Akira eyes lit up.

“You’ve met her?” he couldn’t stop himself as he leaned forward. “You’ve met my sister? Tell me. Does she have a long loose curls with dark brown eyes?”

“Uh… y-yes…?”

“How was she? Is she eating her food? How is she handing the situation?”

He was about to take a step outside his car but stopped as he saw the droid still in the process of cleaning the floor. His expression mellowed after the droid rolled away.

“…How bad is her condition?” he said with forlorn.

Kazuyoshi, the man before him gave him the troubled look.

“…Horigome-san fell unconscious for a time,” he answered. “Rather… there were many days where she didn’t eat a thing. Once in a while she would faint… I know that its’ not… it’s not my place to say this… but… it is as though she didn’t want to live…”

Hearing those words he nodded and took out a small pocket book from his jacket pocket.

“Your fellow staff members refuse to let me see her,” Akira said firmly as he looked at him in the eye. “Kazuyoshi-san. I know this is probably against regulations, but–”he raised the small book to the man- “Please give this to her. And tell her that her brother will always be with her even though we can’t see each other at the moment. Please.”

Kazuyoshi opened his mouth to decline, only to close it shut as he took the small book from his hand.

“I-I’ll try and see what I can do,” he said reluctantly.

“Thank you,” Akira bowed his head to him. “Thank you so much.”

In a moment’s notice, the sound of an ambulance drove into view. But by that time, Akira had already disappeared from the scenery before Kazuyoshi could stop him from leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holden Caulfield is J.D. Salniger's character from 'Catcher in the Rye'. Probably not a book a ten year old should even read, but then again, when my sister was at that age, she read stuff that are just as mature and understood at least 80% of what they were saying. (Kids are really scary in that sense since they could absorb just about anything if you give them a brief explanation of the context)  
> But I digress. Apologies for a very inconsistent chapter release but you know the usual shtick of life and its idiosyncrasies.
> 
> Review?


	6. Thief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I'm now on holidays and I have finally finalized this chapter. The only reason why I re-uploaded this chapter is because I added a few more bits of dialogue. So sorry for the delay but here's the updated version.

“Good morning Hori-”

Maki gave him an admonishing glare.

“…Y-your hue looks a little clearer today,” the nurse stuttered nervously as soon as his eyes met her gaze.

“I don’t need flattering lies,” she said muttered darkly. “I don’t need food; I don’t need anything. Just… leave me alone.”

The nurse bit his lip, dubiously shifting his gaze to his side.

“Horigome-san, you have to eat something,” he persisted. “…There’s still hope for you, you know. They said that there’s still a ten percent chance of recovering both your psycho-pass and crime coefficient if you try hard enough and-”

“What difference does it make,” she retorted. “If my psycho pass recovers, what then? If I’m no longer a latent criminal, what then? What could I possibly do if I were to leave this place?”

The words that rolled off her tongue had no feeling in them.

“You must be looking down on me, seeing me every single day-”

A disconnection between her words, her heart and her mind became evident. A devoid of emotion that was unfamiliar to her senses.

“-You must be thinking; ‘at least I’m not going end up like these people because I can maintain my psycho pass-‘”

She couldn’t control her words as she sputtered the garbage out of her system without any sense of remorse.

“-Why couldn’t you just kill me? Or leave me alone to rot here? I’m not worth anything. I’m nothing. Not even able to take a stand on anything-”

For the first time in a long time, she couldn’t take control of her own senses as she spewed bitter words towards the nurse who stood before her glass cell door.

“-Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?”

Tear began to fall as the thought and the words voiced itself out.

“-Why couldn’t he just left me out there to die like the rest of them? He could have been more selfish and just handed me over to them in the first place!”

“…Horigome-san,” the nurse spoke in clear hesitation.

One hand then slipped into the pocket of his pants.

“…Your brother would be very sad if he heard you say those things,” he said as he place an object onto the tray that his other hand was carrying.

He turned his head from side to side as he nervously pressed the button to open the slot for the tray to come through.

“I’m sure that your brother doesn’t want to lose any family member in his life,” he added as he pushed the tray through the slot. “Your brother would want you to live, and I’m more than certain that he will always be waiting for you outside of this facility.”

Maki gave his a dubious stare as she reluctantly took the tray off his hands.

“You should try smiling a little more, Horigome-san,” he said as he gave her a smile of his own. “It won’t be much, but, I’m sure it will make your burden a little lighter.”

She responded with a sour frown.

“Haha,” he chuckled sadly at her response. “Well, I’m be leaving you then.”

When he disappeared from her view she looked at her tray, assessing the contents of her meal. The first thing that was different was the small book that was plonked on the edge of the tray.

She placed the tray onto the bed and picked up the pocket book.

Maki realized what it was: it was her brother’s notebook. To be precise, her brother’s draft diary that contained numerous ideas of small short stories that he had often shared with her in her younger years.

Tears rained down onto the surface of the book, sniffling as she clutched the book tightly with her hand.

_Idiot. Onii-san you really are an idiot._

She opened the notebook as she wiped the tears away from her face.

* * *

 

Eleanor raised the plastic bottle against the dimly-lit holo interior. Particles of little lights refracted the images through the bottle of water, magnifying the gradients and sediments of colour that make up the images on display.

Eleven years ago, hologram interior designs were more or less crude and tacky by default, but with each passing year, with technology beefed up to surpass its limits, it was more or less scary to see how real these CG designs were becoming.

“Are you interested in changing your room décor?” the sales assistant inquired.

“Ah, no, not really,” the tall woman answered meekly.

“If you are interested, we have a 60% discount on the latest designs,” the sales assistant added. “We also offer a 30 day free trial on a range of selected interior designs-”

As the woman recited her marketing words, Eleanor then recalled that the shop was going to close down sometime soon within the span of months. Overwhelmed at the river of words that flowed from her mouth, Eleanor insisted that she wasn’t interested in buying anything in particular.

When she left the stall, she raised her head up; her mismatched eyes darted at the newly installed scanner in-between the shops then shifted her gaze to her wrist-link.

She walked passed the shops one by one, unconsciously assessing the different methods of visual marketing techniques used on each stall window. In her university years, she had her fair share of visual communication design classes, ones that changed her perspective of how the new world works.

 _Whoever must have created Sybil must have been familiar with this field somehow,_ she concluded.

She took note of the Commissa mascots that were used whenever the government were to make special announcements regarding the change in policies. Even on certain occasions she would witness holo-suits used when interrogating on the spot. Every colour, every trait, every characteristic and design element used in Sybil were purposefully chosen in order to suit the eyes of the people to avoid a person’s psycho pass from deteriorating.

 _“There’s been talk of abolishing the university from the system,”_ she recalled when she overheard a conversation during her break.

_“Is that so? Why?”_

_“Out of the students who graduated, they said that 30% of the graduates were the only ones who maintained a clear psycho-pass.”_

The very thought didn’t surprise her. What surprised her the most was how it took them that long to realize the influx of deteriorated psycho passes were caused by the olive garden of knowledge and education.

A small nudge could be felt from the side of her arm. She turned to her side and saw a hooded figure walking away from her. She turned to the side and saw her wrist link gone from her wrist.

_That thief!_

She turned around and hastened her steps towards the hooded figure. She looked up at the scanners.

_Surely they should have seen this coming right? Right?!_

When she finally caught up, she clomped her hand onto the hooded figure’s shoulder.

“Excuse me,” she said wryly. “But if you don’t mind, I wish to take back what was mine, thank you very much.”

The hooded figure turned his head.

An innocent smile crept up his face.

Almost immediately he pushed her down to the ground and bolted away.

Eleanor gaped at the figure, her jaw dropped as the young adolescent had slowly disappeared from her view. Onlookers who witnessed it taking place were just as shocked as she was.

* * *

 

“So it was just the wrist-link that he stole,” Akira concluded after he listened to his friend’s story.

“That damned thief,” Eleanor gritted her teeth. “That thing carried files for our next assessment.”

“Did you at the very least have a copy of these documents?”

“I do, but… my contacts, my files, my messages,” she grasped the ends of her bobbed hair with her two hands. “They’re all in there! It’s going to be a pain to try and get them all back.”

“Did the police do anything about this?”

She soured a frown at him.

“Get this,” she pointed at him. “They only appeared after someone else’s psycho pass clouded by that guy. Honestly, a crime just took its place right in my very eyes, and what did they do? ‘Calm down’ they said. How am I supposed to calm down with what just happened?”

Akira then blinked as he clomped his hand onto her shoulder.

“Your psycho pass,” he began. “How are you handling it after what just happened?”

She bit her lip.

“…That…” she turned her head away from him. “It rose up by ten points after that… That damn thief… it’s all his fault…”

“Ten points?” his eyes widened. “Any higher than that, you might not meet your job qualifications.”

“I know,” she said glumly. “I know, that Horigome-kun. Better than anyone else. I need to get that thing back. I have to. If I don’t, I don’t know if I could maintain a clear hue without it.”

Akira blinked.

“…What do you mean?”

Eleanor lowered her head, biting her lip even harder.

“Eleanor,” Akira asked again. “What do you mean you can’t maintain a clear hue without it? Is that wrist-link that important to you?”

“…”

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“Eleanor,” he said. “Is there something in that device that you are not telling me?”

“…I…” she shook her head. “Forget it. It’s nothing. This whole thing is not your problem in the first place.”

Akira squinted his eyes as she nervously gripped the wrist that once had her device. There was definitely something that she wasn’t telling him, and that it had to do with her maintaining her hue. He could only conclude that there was something in that device, perhaps a sentimental value that was used as her only coping mechanism in maintaining her hue.

“…Don’t tell anyone about this,” she began. “If anyone knew, there’ll definitely be someone who will take advantage of it.”

“I promise I won’t,” he said.

She sighed despairingly as she looked at him in the eye.

“Do you remember... back when we were graduating... how I was unable to go to the graduation ceremony because I caught the flu?”

Akira nodded.

 _All too well,_ he thought as he recalled how he had to take her place in receiving her certificate.

“That was a lie,” she said darkly. “I never had the flu. My psycho pass darkened to such an extent, it was no longer manageable.”

“...What are you saying, Eleanor?” Akira asked.

“That device…” she took a deep breath. “It’s a gift from my father. He told me that for as long as I wore this, my hue will be manageable. I thought that he only said that just to make me believe it actually works. But… as I continued to wear it every day… my hue became clearer.”

A momentary silence ensued, leaving Akira in a moment to digest the words.

“…A device… that clears hues…”

He muttered after a long while.

“Are you… disappointed?” His friend asked timidly. “That all this time someone like me has been… cheating the system?”

“How is that even possible?”

He ignored the question as a stream of thoughts rambled in his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Ele,” Akira looked at her in the eye. “How long ago did you receive this wrist-link?”

Puzzlement was evident in her eyes.

“…it was… seven… no wait…” she counted her fingers. “I don’t know. Possibly eight or nine years ago.”

“So basically around the time before your father disappeared,” Akira concluded.

“W-why does that matter? Besides, my father came back anyway, so why are you asking?”

Akira didn’t respond as his thought held a tight grip on his consciousness.

_If her father disappeared not long after he left her that device, it could only mean-_

“Akira,” she shook him by the shoulder. “Answer me. Why are you asking me this? Aren’t you mad? Aren’t you disappointed? Did you not hear me? I’ve been telling you that I’ve-”

“Why should I be disappointed?” he bluntly spoke.

“Huh?”

“I don’t think holding something like that is necessarily illegal in the first place, am I right?”

“Wait, wait, wait, for just a moment,” she raised her hand before his face. “Are we still on the same page? I just told you that a thief stole my-”

“-Your device that has been keeping your hue in check,” Akira interjected. “Yes, Eleanor, I have been listening to what you have just said. So basically, you’ve been wearing a device that’s assisted you in keeping your hue clear for almost ten years. How is that no different from other people using methods to help maintain a clear hue? I highly doubt that something like that is hardly against the law if it has got to do with using hue-clearing devices.”

Eleanor blinked at his words.

“…I never thought of it like that,” she said.

“If something like that were to exist,” he continued rambling. “Then it might be possible that-”

_-Something like that could save Maki from her predicament._

“Can’t you ask you father for another one?” he asked her almost too eagerly.

“I can’t,” she replied mercilessly.

He frowned upon hearing that.

“So it’s a one-of-a-kind thing,” he sighed dejectedly. “Well. That _is_ a problem.”

“What am I going to do?” she said despairingly. “At this rate, I’ll lose my job. Worst still, I’ll be sent to the ward if it gets any worse than this.”

He took one good look at his friend beside her, her head bent down low as a shadow loomed over her eyes. A silhouette of his sister loomed over the tall woman’s weary expression. An unconscious juxtaposition between his sister and his good friend tugged an ache in his chest as his stomach began to slowly burn at his insides.

“I won’t let them take you.”

His voice spoke gravely.

“Akira…?”

Eleanor lifted her head to face him.

“I swear to you, I won’t ever let that happen.”

He stood up before she could see the fires that lit in his eyes.

“Eleanor.” He added, his back turned towards her. “For whatever happens, just sit tight and do your best with what you’ve got right now. For whatever happens, you’ll have to endure it until you get your wrist-link back.”

His friend didn’t utter a word briefly.

“Akira… What are you… going to do?” she dubiously said.

He cocked his head to the side.

“Nothing that you should be too worried about,” he replied wryly.

“Oh no,” she said, shaking her head with heavy suspicion. “No. Akira. Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare even think about-”

“Rest assured, Eleanor,” he said over her words. “It’s not like I have any intention of doing anything remotely dangerous. I’m just going _there_ to ask a couple of questions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After all assessments are done and cleared away, it will be a bit difficult to pick up the pieces after being barred from writing after a long period of time. But, I will do my best here, no matter what for as long as someone will read this story. So, your take, and if this goes long, the fate of our beloved siblings will be determined.
> 
> Review?


	7. An Iridescent Hue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I've fully finalized this chapter (really need to work on my organisation skills) and to be honest, its a struggle to keep up with this fic, having to make a comeback while trying to pick up the pieces, but I will do my best for the sake of those who have been keenly following this. In all honesty, I believe that my writing style sucks so don't hesitate on grammar or vocab issues!

  _“Akira, I refuse to let you go anywhere close to those people,”_ he recalled Eleanor chiding at him when he gave a slip of his plans. _“I can’t have you involved with my problems.”_

 _“Then you should have known me by now that I’m not the kind of guy who sits idly by,”_ he said to her. _“But for your sake, I promise I’ll be discreet.”_

He walked along the sidewalk, his thoughts lingering in the numerous routes he could take with that knowledge. Grey clouds seamlessly hovered over the towering skyscrapers, a lingering doubt hung in the back of Akira’s head.

The fact that he couldn’t do anything for his sister’s predicament had only added two digits higher into his psycho pass. Adding on another point for his friend’s revelation of how she was able to get by. He could make out a simple guesswork of how the algorithm works in the Sybil system; but in the back of his head he felt like they were just numbers made to categorize the people into segments in order to control the population. No different from the numberplates found in their cars or identification numbers given to workers within his management. He wasn’t exactly a genius, but he was aware of the basic fundamentals.

He slipped his phone out of his back pocket, flicking through his message files that held the address to one of his old acquaintances in his university years. He stopped at the contact name ‘Michi’ and copied the address into the online map.

 _“Don’t hesitate to drop by when you’re in trouble,”_ he recalled his old acquaintance once saying. _“I’ll be your eyes and ears for any sort of operation. Just say the word.”_

The last thing that he’d expect himself to do was to break the law. Much less on having someone to do it for him.

 _No,_ Akira shook his head. _When you give someone your word, you can’t just back out._

He made a promise at least, to Eleanor that he wouldn’t do something that could possibly jeopardize their own welfare and safety.

 _I’m only going to ask,_ he convinced himself. _I’m just going to ask. Nothing more. Nothing less._

With his thumb he pressed the search icon, his phone buffering seconds later to pin-point his location on where to go. A broken line was drawn from the spot that indicated where he was and traced itself towards the ideal location on his screen.

Akira followed the directions on the map, buying a little something along the way as common curtesy if he were to drop by someone else’s house. He swiped the screen to see how much farther to go, only to have his phone buffering once more.

He clicked his tongue in frustration as it took seconds for his screen to load to the next intersection.

 _Of course an old model would take you this long to buffer_.

With the thought hovering over his head, he inadvertently smacked his knee onto a hard surface which brought him to take a step back.

_“-Neighbourhood residents are expected to evacuate immediately. I repeat. This is the Criminal Investigation Department, part of the Ministry of Public Welfare and Safety Bureau. Access to this block is currently restricted to ensure safety. Neighbourhood residents are expected to evac-”_

Akira gaped at the holo mascot that stood before him as it recited its words on an endless loop. He turned to the side and saw three other Komissa mascots aligned together, creating a holographic barrier in-between the gaps. The road and sidewalk were sealed off.

Several onlookers were spotted a few paces away from him. He turned to his phone and saw the route pointing towards the direction beyond the pixelated barrier line.

_You have got to be kidding._

The craggling voice of the AI mascot had only brought one point higher into his psycho-pass.

He took a few paces back to see if there were possible detours ahead of him. From where he stood, he spotted the same blue barrier blocking the next intersection.

Taking the situation into account, he considered the possibility of his acquaintance caught in the middle of something which had the CID involved.

 _It’s not entirely impossible that it might be the case,_ Akira thought, having to grasp an idea of what that man was capable of based on what he knew.

_“-to this block is currently restricted to ensuere safety. Neighbourhood residents are expected to evacuate-”_

Akira could only do so much as to dread at the thought as the Komissa mascot’s cybernetic vocal chords droned on.

He returned his gaze towards the barrier, only spot a particular familiar auburn haired Inspector standing within the enclosed space.

_Detective… Masaoka… was it?_

“Excuse me,” he felt a light tap on the shoulder.

Akira cocked his head to the side, only to be met with a man twice his size wearing a pair of track suit pants and an overcoat that hung over his shoulders.

“Well, I’ll be,” the man scoffed. “Of course of all times you could have dropped by, you had to pick today of all things.”

“Michi,” Akira immediately frowned at his associate’s attire. “You’re still wearing that gaudy jacket of yours after all these years.”

“It’s not like I wanted to get out of the house in this,” his associate replied shrugged. “Get off my case.”

Akira sighed as he shook his head.

“So. What’s happened here?” Akira asked as he pointed his gaze at the barrier.

“I have no idea,” Michi answered as he sighed with a shrug. “Honestly. Cops these days. They don’t even have the curtesy to at least tell us why we have to evacuate this entire block. It’s not as though knowing would make our psycho pass that cloudy.”

Both men turned to the enclosed space before them, with Komissa’s voice polluting the air, Akira’s eyes pointed towards the detective. Fragments of his memory of the night when they took his sister into custody flashed in his consciousness.

“Someone you know?”

“Hm?”

Michi head-pointed at the inspector who stood within the bounded space.

“…No,” Akira replied, his eyes remained fixed towards the auburn-haired man. “No one important really.”

“So what ills have you brought with you this time?” the plus-sized man smirked. “Sister troubles? Advice on what it would take to get a NEET out of the house? Someone stalking you?”

“No,” Akira answered. “Nothing like that.”

“Well,” Michi cranked his neck from side to side. “Whatever you want or whatever it is that you need, you’ll have to wait a while longer for as long as these guys are hanging around.”

From where they stood, Akira spotted a bulk-like vehicle wheeling itself into the enclosed space; an ominous automobile with an opaque tint on its windows and windshield. A sheen of black painted over the vehicle’s shell; attached with mechanized braces at back of the vehicle. A neon-lit text that wrote “police” glowed on either side.

“Oh boy,” his associate scratched his head. “This looks pretty bad.”

“What?” Akira turned to him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Enforcers,” Michi spat as he spoke gravely. “I forgot that detectives drag those guys around in almost everywhere they go these days. I think it’d be best we leave, Hori-kun.”

Akira gawked at the ominous vehicle. As soon as it parked itself adjacent to the detective’s car, the mechanized braces lifted itself off. Not long after, three individuals came out of the vehicle; three men who wore forlorn expressions.

Akira was well-aware of the existence of enforcers before. But not once had he ever thought he would see one or two of them this close in his lifetime. But perhaps, in the very first place, not once had he ever thought that everything around him would slowly crumble within his grasp.

“Hori-kun.”

Akira turned to his associate.

“What?”

Michi frowned.

“As I was saying, it’s best that we leave now. There’s no guarantee that we’d remain clear with those latent criminals hanging around.”

Akira reluctantly nodded, but turned his head back towards the three men, making one final glance at the auburn-haired inspector before he left the scene.

* * *

Upon entering the Correction and Medical Centre building from the staff carpark, Kazuyoshi Ito whistled cheerily as he slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder across his torso.

_I wonder how she’s coping with things?_

Horigome Maki. Ever since his encounter with her older sibling, he had seen her in better spirits after her brother had entrusted him to give her the small pocketbook.

 _A sign of progress._ He thought.

Although she continued to glare at his presence, the fact that she had become less catty in comparison to their first meeting brought a sigh of relief on his end.

As he walked along the corridors towards the staff office, an echo of voices from the admin department could be heard from where he stood.

_“Don’t you think he should be able to see her now? Her psycho-pass is more or less stable for the past week.”_

_“The head nurse insisted that we should give her another week before she’s able to see anyone really.”_

_“It’s been a while since he’s dropped by for a visit.”_

_“Maybe he’s given up? I must say though, he’s quite a catch too.”_

_“It’s a pity though.”_

_“I agree.”_

Under normal circumstances, he would blatantly ignore the usual gossip and turn the other way, but since the two ladies from the admin department and the third from his department were in the way of him trying to sign in on his shift, he timidly approached the three.

“Um excuse me,” he said. “I need to sign in.”

“Ah, sorry,” one of them said.

The other two scattered away from the desk as he tapped his ID card onto the sensor to sign him in.

He gave them a curt nod before he walked towards the locker rooms, not long before he could hear one of them whisper to the other two:

_“He’s the one who’s been taking care of the sister.”_

_“Is that so?”_

_“He insisted that he should serve the girl instead of letting the drones handle things.”_

_“But isn’t that dangerous?”_

_“I know.”_

_“Not only that, once in a while he would talk to some of these laten-”_

 He instinctively blocked his ears as he refused to listen any further. He was still inexperienced, without any doubt, but in accordance to the aptitude reading of his skills, apparently he was most suitable within this line of work. Although he never questioned it before, having to see that he was able to cope with the environment of his workforce despite the few blunders convinced him he had made the right decision.

Entering the locker room, he took off his clothes and slipped into his uniform hurriedly. As soon as he was fully dressed, he walked his way towards the staff briefing area, read the notifications that were on display on the holo-screen bulletin and immediately set himself to work.

“I’ll be taking that,” he said as soon as the drone finished preparing the morning meal on one of the trays.

“Oi, Kazu! What are you-!”

“I’m just doing my rounds,” he said casually as he left the area.

“Kazuyoshi you can’t keep doing this forever you know,” one of his workmates called out to him.

He shrugged as he continued to walk his way towards the cell blocks.

He whistled with every step he took, greeting every individual in every cell block he passes. Some raised their heads wearily, some appeared expectant of his greeting. Others swore at him as he continued to walk his way towards cell 109.

As soon as he reached the cell, he smiled as he greeted:

“Good morning, Horigome-san.”

His greeting was reciprocated with in silence. From where he stood, the frail girl appeared to be glued to the pages of her brother’s pocket book.

“I’ve brought you your breakfast.”

“Mm.”

She nodded as she flicked to the next page.

“You look like you’re in high spirits today,” he commented.

“Mm.”

“…”

He should have expected this. But as of this point, he found himself getting used to the one-sided nature of their exchange.

“…Is it interesting?” He asked with genuine curiosity.

“...”

The girl tore her gaze from the notebook towards his direction.

The vacant look in her eyes told him she couldn’t care less of anything that came from his mouth.

Regardless, he smiled awkwardly as he pressed the button to open the slot.

“You look awfully cheery today,” she muttered, standing up to collect the tray of food.

He nodded as soon as the tray was off his hands.

“Your psycho pass has stabilized for the most part,” he said. “Your crime coefficient may not have lowered as of yet, but your psycho pass is showing some improvement.”

“I don’t need anyone to tell me how I’m progressing,” she retorted. “I can see it from here.”

“There’s always an option for rehabilitation,” he suggested. “Having to be notified of your condition, I think that your crime coefficient could be brought down to a low number if you tried going through therapy sessions.”

“I highly doubt that the situation can easily be fixed regardless of whether I am able to overcome anything,” she sarcastically. “Even if I recover, it won’t make a difference.”

He forced a smile on his face.

“The offer is still open regardless,” he said.

His words brought a sour frown on her lips.

“I don’t accept offers that are tied to anyone’s obligations.”

With those words she turned around and plonked the tray onto her bed, settling beside the tray as she returned to the notebook in hand.

“The world isn’t always as terrifying as you think.”

Kazuyoshi made one last glance at her before he began making his rounds to the next cell block.

As soon as she heard his footsteps dissipating into pools of echoes, the girl lifted her chin and saw the nurse striding away from her view.

“What do you think, Onii-san,” she muttered. “Should I trust him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that said, we finally have a full name for the nurse.
> 
> Review?


	8. Connecting threads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, yes, I haven't touched on this for a long while and I well, as abrupt some things are, with a little bit of luck I might be able to reconnect with my main goal. But as far as plot goes, it is difficult to bounce back and jump straight to the matter. Anyways. enjoy.

She held her breath. With every page she turned, the labyrinth of words shaped the images onto her mind, setting the stirring of her heart at ease. The words he wrote in every page shaped a different persona as each character he described hit close to home on her end.

Hope. It was a tale of hope.

She remembered how often he reminded her of the stakes that the world has to offer. That the world was not as good nor kind as they both had hoped it would be.

And yet, he wrote tales; short stories of people who sought for a happier future and found it.

“Is it interesting?”

She looked up and saw the only visitor she’s had for almost an entire month.

 _“Maki,”_ she remembered her brother’s words. _“There’s still so much more in the world than just the school grounds. I promise. You just haven’t seen it yet.”_

The nurse’s lips curled up into an awkward smile as his hand reached for a device.

“…You look awfully cheery today,” she muttered in reflex, shuffling out of her bed to collect the tray of food that was pushed through the empty slot.

“Your psycho pass has stabilized for the most part,” he said. “Your crime coefficient may not have lowered as of yet, but your psycho pass is showing some improvement.”

Instinctively, she eyed her crime coefficient on display discreetly.

“I don’t need anyone to tell me how I’m progressing,” she retorted, not looking at the nurse in the eye. “I can see it from here.”

_I don’t need to be reminded all the time._

“There’s always an option for rehabilitation,” he suggested. “Having to be notified of your condition, I think that your crime coefficient could be brought down to a low number if you tried going through therapy sessions.”

 _Again,_ she thought.

Although it had been vague in her memories, she shuddered to think about the drones that malfunctioned before her very eyes. The only vivid memory she had of that day was the fear of losing and the desperation of wanting to live at any cost.

Even if she were to overcome her fear of drones, she understood that there was no hope in being able to reintegrate into society. She was already three years behind the normal curriculum; she had no relatives or family other than her brother to take her in; she had no friends outside of her family. She anticipated of the things people might talk about the moment she will take one step outside her prison walls.

“I highly doubt that the situation can easily be fixed regardless of whether I am able to overcome anything,” she said cynically. “Even if I recover, it won’t make a difference.”

He forced a smile on his face.

“The offer is still open regardless,” he said.

His words brought a sour frown on her lips.

There was one of the few things she couldn’t accept: receiving from people who act accordingly out of duty rather than out of their own free will.

“I don’t accept offers that are tied to anyone’s obligations.”

With those words she turned around and plonked the tray onto her bed, settling beside the tray, returning to the notebook in hand.

A short silence ensued, only to have the man speak in his usual optimistic mannerism.

“The world isn’t always as terrifying as you think.”

The uncanny similarities between the nurse’s words to that of her own brother’s encouraging words was enough to cease her thoughts for a brief second.

Maki looked up towards the direction of the glass cell door as she watched the nurse striding away from her view.

She couldn’t bring herself to trust him, as she questioned the sincerity of his words. Allowing herself to fall into the hands of others outside of her own nucleus family was more frightening than the drones. The fear of intimacy and the wariness towards others was enough to put her guard up once more.

_“You’ll always end up with the same problem for as long as your mindset remains that way.”_

Her brother reprimanded her once.

She scoffed at the thought.

“What do you think, Onii-san,” she muttered. “Should I trust him?”

She reverted her attention back towards the small notebook, seeking for an answer to the words she had just spoken.

* * *

 

Raising his wrist-link, the detective flicked his index finger onto the screen. He shifted his focus onto the crime scene before him.

One shattered window adjacent to the kitchenette, drops of blood staining the broken glass that stood between the window panes. Shimmers of light refracted onto the walls from the shards that fell onto the floor, a rose-coloured brick lay amongst the tiny grains of glass.

With one look he suspected this was where the criminal made his entry. At the same time, he couldn’t deny the possibility that this was no more than a distraction to make them think that way.

Masaoka walked towards the sofa where the body laid there. A gash on the wrist and a blow to the head. A young man, presumably in his early 20s, or even in his late teens.

“This one’s put up a fight,” the detective remarked as he bent over to observe the bruises found on the wrists and face. “As if he’s got something to hide or something worth risking his life for.”

With his gloved hands he reached for the particle of glass on the man’s shirt; only to have the small drones snatch it away before him.

He squinted his eyes on the drone as the other small drones begun to climb over the lifeless body; collecting samples of the man’s hair, skin and other small particles of evidence that they could find. Masaoka couldn’t help but see a resemblance of its movements to that of a swarm of ants collecting food for its queen and colony.

“Masaoka,” one of the other detectives called out. “There’s something you should see.”

He stood up and followed the sound of his colleague’s voice which led him to the bathroom.

There, another body laid on the bath tub; a blow to the head along with red markings on the surface of the skin. The little drones scanned the area surrounding the body with a handful of them swarming all over the victim.

“What do you think, detective Masaoka? Murder or an accident?” his colleague spoke nonchalantly.

“Is that a trick question?” Masaoka retorted.

His colleague pointed at the red markings.

“Look closely,” his colleague urged him as he touched the skin of the victim. “The blue veins are visible here along with the red marks that travel along the lines of his artery. I initially assumed he was electrocuted, but something doesn’t seem right with this one… This is what I think: it’s possible he wasn’t supposed to die. At the same time, I feel that it might not be the case either.”

His colleague mercilessly pushed one of the small drones off the victim’s head as he lifted it to reveal the scarlet stains on the tub.

Masaoka raised a brow.

“He was stunned,” his colleague continued. “But after he was stunned, he must have hit his head onto the edge of the tub as he fell.”

“But what doesn’t make any sense is how he ended up in this position,” Masaoka added. “If he fell after being stunned, he would have hit the wall first, seeing that he was stunned in the chest.”

“Exactly.”

The sound of a wrist-link sang out, bringing the two of them to raise their wrist-links up.

Masaoka looked at his device and saw that he wasn’t the one who received a notification. He turned to his colleague who appeared just as puzzled as he was.

“That wasn’t mine,” the colleague said who seemed to have guessed his thoughts.

“Neither was it coming from mine either.”

Another beep sang out.

The two men turned to the lifeless body.

Masaoka hovered over the victim and peered over to see the victim’s hand curled into a fist. A rubber strap hung loose at the edge of the victim’s wrist. In-between the fingers glowed a feint powder-blue light from the inside.

The detective raised the victim’s hand and opened the tightly closed fist.

There he saw a wrist-link device, flashing a powder-blue light on its surface.

* * *

The plus-sized man who sat before him scratched his head.

“Hori-kun,” he darted a glare at Akira. “Of all things, you lost a wrist-link.”

Akira nodded.

“And not just any kind of wrist-link,” Michi continued. “It has all you important documents from your identification certificate, to your permits from your driver’s license to your worker’s permit and certificates.”

Akira nodded once more.

“You really expect me to believe that kind of bullshit?”

 _Ah, as I thought._ Akira sighed as he shrugged. _Of course you wouldn’t buy it straight off the bat._

Akira returned his associate’s glare with a poker face.

“In this day and age?” Michi scoffed. “Even geezers always made sure to make back-up files for that sort of stuff. Either you are lying to me, or you really are stupid enough to do that sort of stuff.”

The two of them had settled on a corner within a café, a few blocks away from the psycho-hazard zone. The café was busy, filled with couples and a handful of group tables. With their orders being taken by drones, he was relieved to find that there was an unlikely chance of being eavesdropped by another party.

Despite knowing this, Akira turned from side to side to see if there were eyes watching where he was.

“Well,” Akira finally said. “I may have overblown the story a little, but I do need that wrist-link back. It’s important.”

“If you had said that in the first place, you would have avoided suspicion. The more excuses you add, the more suspicious you become.”

A drone rolled in with a tray of coffee and served it onto the table. Michi took a sip from the coffee and continued.

“I may be a self-employed seeker working outside of Sybil’s jurisdiction, but finding someone who stole a valuable item is out of my hands. Especially if you said that he managed to get past the cymatic scans. You’re basically asking me to hack the system to be able to get this wrist-link back.”

Despite his disappointment, Akira’s expression didn’t change.

“Well,” his associate remarked. “Despite how desperate you sounded earlier, you seem awfully calm with it.”

“I’m not,” Akira said. “Far from it.”

“I mean, whatever is in that thing,” Michi shrugged. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to get a new one and get your credentials sorted by the MWSB.”

_That’s the last thing I’d want to do._

“That’s not an option,” Akira muttered.

The mug was halfway towards Michi’s lips until he paused at Akira’s words.

“…You still can’t trust those guys, can you?”

His associate said nonchalantly.

“…”

“Hori-kun… I know it’s not my place to say this-”

“Michi, it’s got nothing to do with-”

“-But what happened to your family was nobody’s fault.”

Akira glowered, hearing those words.

“I’m not the kind of man who would blame anyone for something like that.”

“Oh,” Michi commented. “Sorry, looks like I stepped over the line this time.”

Akira turned his head towards the glass window, watching the random heads of pedestrians passing by his view. In his view, he spotted three cymatic scans focusing its lens from person to person.

“Say Michi,” Akira suddenly asked. “Has there ever been an effective method of being able to supress your psycho pass?”

“Sure there is,” Michi answered in a matter-of-fact like fashion. “Just don’t think about committing a crime.”

“No, I mean an actual method of supressing your psycho pass without actually changing your way of thinking things.”

“…Well, let’s see,” Michi then started counting his fingers. “First off, there are therapy sessions- oh wait, that technically doesn’t count… There’s medication, although we all know there’s always a side-effect to pills. Oh but then again, there’s also the placebo effect.”

“Placebo effect?”

The last suggestion caught him off guard.

“You and I know that a placebo isn’t necessarily effective under the radar,” Akira scoffed.

“Oh, you’ll be surprised,” Michi said. “You know that the human mind can do so much. Sometimes if you put your mind into things, certain things that you never thought would happen to you would happen eventually.”

“…That’s not placebo effect,” Akira bluntly said. “That’s just being an optimist.”

“Well… I digress. But no, you’re wrong there,” Michi pointed out. “I’ll give you a scenario: let’s say we have ourselves a very sick person and there is no cure for it. Then the doctor then says to the patient, have this once a day and you will feel better.”

“I know what it is, Michi,” Akira cut him off. “But what’s your point?”

“The point is, Akira: the Sybil system is exactly like a placebo.”

Akira blinked.

“…I’m sorry, but what?”

“Let me explain,” Michi quickly sipped his coffee. “Because the Sybil system had already proven itself worthy as an aide in running this country, who’s to say that part of the reason why it works is because half of it is because we truly believe in the things that it has shown us.”

“When you asked me of a method of supressing one’s psycho pass, I think that the most effective method is a placebo,” he continued. “To prove my point, the Sybil system uses this method to us every single day. For instance: what’s good and what’s bad for your psycho pass, Sybil lay out the cards and tell us that doing this is good or bad for mental care. And then we believe in that, and because we believe it and held onto it like it is fact, that’s when it takes its effect and it becomes reality.”

“But that… I highly doubt that actually is proven,” Akira said mercilessly. “If that’s the case, then why do latent criminals still exists? If that’s how you perceive it, then why are there people who convinced themselves that they’ve done nothing wrong and yet they’re still sent behind bars? If that’s how the system works, then how the hell do you explain as to why someone who’s done nothing wrong is suddenly sent behind bars and condemned as a latent criminal for the rest of her life?”

“Wait just a second, Hori-kun,” Michi stopped him. “Where is this coming from? In fact, what are you even talking about?”

“You-”

Akira bit his tongue before he could say what he wanted to say. A split second later, he tasted copper on his own tongue.

“…You alright?” Michi asked.

Akira eyed the iced-water inside the glass before him. He took the glass and had one of the melting ice cubes inside his mouth where the cut was made.

 _Honestly why do I keep doing this?_ his thoughts murmured in the back of his head.

With the ice cube melted in his mouth, Akira swallowed hard.

“Sorry,” he said. “I said something stupid. Please forget what I said.”

His associate’s curiosity was blatantly obvious despite not saying anything.

An awkward silence ensued between the two of them, as his associate clearly wanted to ask to satisfy his curiosity just as Akira dreaded the questions.

Clearing his throat, Akira decided to go back on the subject.

“…So you really can’t help me find the wrist-link?”

“Unfortunately.”

“…At the very least, do you know anyone or anything that could at least help me solve this problem?”

“Well,” his associate eyed the window for brief second. “Not at the moment. I can’t think of anything on the top of my head. If my apartment wasn’t within the psycho hazard zone it would have been a lot easier to find a solution.”

Akira knew exactly what it was that he was talking about. The Michi he knew specialized in making connections with different sectors and fields within the city. He was almost likened to that of an information broker had it not been for the case where he refused to associate himself with groups that would likely cloud his psycho pass.

“Hang on,” the plus-sized man raised his brows as though he had a revelation. “There is someone I do know who might help you. Just one problem, he resides within the abandoned districts.”

Akira’s eyes lit up in surprise.

“That’s… unexpected,” he said. “I never thought you’d associate yourself within that area of field.”

“It has been three years since we properly talked,” Michi shrugged. “Besides, the guy I’m talking about has a clear colour. I’m sure he’s trustworthy enough.”

“What’s his name?”

Michi then grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket, tapping his fingers onto the glass surface and handed it over to Akira.

As soon as Akira received it, he took one glance at the name and blinked.

_Why does this name sound familia-!_

The noisy thoughts in his mind ceased as he recognized the lines that made up the name.

“What’s wrong?” Michi asked. “Someone you know?”

Just to make sure his eyes didn’t deceive him, he reread the name from beginning to end.

_Gaius Arden._

Eleanor Arden’s father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, please don't hesitate to drop a review or critique on certain areas that need fixing or any sort of inquiries.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry everyone, I have the worst kind of writer's block regarding this plot. But, I must confess, the situation with this plot is literally on a stale-mate. I know how it ends, but getting it from point A to point C in how it flows and connects is really what's pushing me to the edge. FORGIVE THINE TRESPASSES. >_< I PROMISE YOU I HAVEN'T ABANDONED IT YET!! (This is me telling myself this).  
> I will do my best, my good reader, and I hope to update this soon as soon as I get my 'A' game moving.

The first time he met Gaius was when he was 19 years old. Grey strands served as natural highlights to the man’s auburn mane; small creases were faintly seen on his forehead; his eyes reflected a lot of hardships in his early years. Akira was uncertain at the time whether or not to trust an expat from the outside world, but he trusted his daughter more since she held some form of semblance to his own hardships.

Although much of the Arden household held no resemblance to his own family’s circumstances, Akira understood much of Eleanor’s life had endure the endless discrimination due to her father’s questionable background. Akira was surprised knowing that despite being an outsider; Gaius Arden decided to remain despite the isolation policy being enforced throughout the entire nation.

Due to the questionable legitimacy of her father’s custody over her, Eleanor was separated from her father at the age of 10. But by her 14th year, she left the home she was designated to and secretly met with her father throughout the rest of her adolescent years.

Or so she said to Akira when she first brought him over to meet her father.

He didn’t know Gaius well enough in person, all he knew about him was that no matter how difficult the situation, his hue remained a clear colour. Something Akira initially assumed to be a family trait within the Arden household until Eleanor told him the truth.

_How is this going to help me with my situation again?_

With every step he took, he wondered how long would he be horsing around with Eleanor’s problem, almost forgetting his silent objective.

Yes, he made a promise to his friend to get the device back; yes he had every intention of giving it back to its rightful owner. But he also had every intention in finding out just how effective the device truly is; as well as finding a way to replicate it for the sake of his sister’s future.

As Akira entered into the abandoned district, the sight of crumbling walls, broken glass and graffiti were everywhere within his view. Strangely enough, perhaps ironic was a better word for it, he took into account of the lack of cymatic scanners within this district, which was more than just strange as he spotted numerous squatters and bootleggers as he walked down the street. The scenery in itself contrasted to the more pro-active districts of Tokyo-ho and Akihabara-ho. As he delved deeper into the streets of the forsaken city district, the sight of neon lights and glaring holos from a not so far distance indicated that Gaius Arden might be residing at this edge of this district, somewhat.

He checked his phone just to make sure, carrying with him two bentou boxes for curtesy’s sake.

 _Of all places to hide,_ Akira thought, _you had to hide in a district so close to the soapland.*_

Akira wondered if Eleanor had known that her father’s residence was situated among the den of thieves and squatters. He shook the thought away from his chest, suddenly wary of the colour of his psycho pass.

With a few more turns from one bend to another, he reached his destination. Akira stood before the rusted door, its paint washed out against the test of time. Without taking a second thought he reached for the handle and turned it clockwise as it sang a rustic squeak as he entered the building.

The sight of its interior played a large contrast to the smog-like atmosphere in the outside. Extensively polished floors, modernity written all over its interior design apart from the fact that there was little to no furniture in sight. The emptiness within the space created the illusion of an expanse of space, despite the narrowness of the hall. A large mirror plonked onto one of the walls to add to the effect. The sight of it brought him to drop his jaw as he took a few steps towards the staircase.

“Pardon the intrusion,” he called out, turning his head from side to side to see where he could remove his shoes, given that there was no shoe rack in sight.

He gave up on the idea the very moment he saw that there were no signs that suggested to take his shoes off. Akira then eyed the stairs, the clear signs of chipping wood on its edges gave him the notion that this building must have been carpeted once so long ago.

Uncertainty was slowly building up in his system, the acids churning in his stomach. He took a deep breath and held it for five seconds to ease him of the creeping anxiety.

 _What are you here for,_ he reminded himself.

He turned to the narrow hallway, seeing if there were any rooms or signs of human activity within what seems to be a desolate space of a building. Akira drew closer towards the closest door, hearing the sounds of a rugged breath being muffled by the door’s barrier. Judging by the lack of a knob, the door was supposed to automatically slide open by its sensors.

“Excuse me,” he knocked at the surface of the door.

The sound of a labouring breath ceased.

“I apologise for the intrusion,” he said as he swallowed hard. Anxiously hoping that whatever it was that was happening on the other side of the door was anything but a terrible deed taking place. “I’m looking for a man whose name is Arden Gaius. Is he here?”

“The door is unlocked,” a voice replied from the other side of the door.

Akira was puzzled as sought for a handle to slide the door open.

“Where’s the door handle?” Akira asked.

“’Door handle?’” the man on the other side scoffed. “You open the door by pressing the button on your left.”

Akira turned to what seemed like a control panel installed into the wall. He nervously pressed the open switch, bringing the door to slowly slide open. From there through the opened door revealed a cramped room filled with large computer boards and large entanglement of wires that snaked around the walls of the room. The large machineries appeared to hold a similarity to the technologies of the 1980s, where blinking lights and neon green texts were flashing on clunky monitors.

With his memories of watching old cyberpunk films, Akira never thought he would see the day when he would stumble across such antiques in his life.

“Um,” Akira cleared his throat as he shook away the thought. “By any chance, is Arden Gaius in this building?”

A middle-aged man popped his head into his view, wearing an over-sized headset designed for Comm-field chats. He lifted the headpiece off and wiped the sweat off his brow.

“Gaius Arden is busy at the moment,” the man said. “He told me on to tell anyone who wants to speak with him not to disturb him.”

Akira grimaced.

“I’m sorry but this is a matter of great urgency.”

“Regardless of how important it is, Arden-san does not want to be disturbed.”

With a short pause, Akira scratched his head and said;

“The matter concerns his daughter and I… we need his help with this.”

The man cocked his head to the side, his eyes darting a dubious glare.

“He doesn’t have a daughter,” the man finally said in an almost matter-of-fact manner.

Akira shot him a glare of his own.

“I’m sorry but you must be mistaken,” Akira said as he tried to sound as calm as possible. “I need to see Arden Gaius right this instant. This. Is. Important.”

The man looked at him in the eye for one long minute, then broke eye-contact and sighed.

“What a pain,” the man gave out a frustrated sigh. “He’s not going to like this.”

The man removed the commfield devices off of him and pulled out his mobile. With a few swipes on the screen he took the device to his ear with Akira hearing the faint sound of a phone ringing from a distance.

“So sorry Arden-san,” the man said on his mobile. “There’s a kid here who wants to talk to you… he said it’s an emergency… I know what you said… I told him that… yes… I told him that as well…”

Akira continued staring at the man, tightening his grip on the bag that held the bentou boxes.

“Yes, well… he said that this concerns your _daughter_?” the man then chuckled at his own words. “You never told me you had one… haha… maybe you should introduce me to her at some point…”

 _Sleaze,_ Akira muttered in his thoughts, appalled by the man’s shameless behaviour.

“… It’s a joke. I’m joking,” the man continued. “No but really, this kid won’t leave me alone until he sees you…*sigh*… Right. I got it… I know, it can’t be helped. I’ll send him in.”

He removed his phone away from his ear and shot Akira a look of disdain, contrary to the smiles he was pulling off earlier.

“Third level, room nine,” he pointed his thumb towards the direction of the staircase. “He’ll be expecting you.”

“Sorry for the trouble,” Akira bowed curtly before he stormed off to the direction of the staircase.

“Honestly, kids these days,” he heard the man mutter before he left the room.

Akira proceeded into climbing up the three flights of stairs, nervous as he was cautious at the idea he might have dabbled into something he should not have crossed.

For every platform he reached, there was a large mirror on the wall as it reflected the scenery behind him along with his own features. The largeness of its size felt intimidating to him by the time he reached his destination, wary of his own silhouette staring back at him.

Something felt off, no doubt, but he forced himself to shake off the feeling before he would face the man in question.

He kept reminding himself that he’s doing this for his friend and his sister. He had no means of doing this for anything else but for those two.

 _Is that so selfish of me?_ He pondered, trudging his steps towards the door with a digital sign that read “9” on its doorbell.

Akira pressed the button and heard an odd tune that sang on the other side.

The sound of footsteps pandered towards the door, which was then followed by the door sliding itself open.

Akira’s eyes widened as soon as the tenant came into view.

The man who stood before him was leaner compared to the last time he saw him; his eyes almost unfocused and glassy, his hair likened to wispy-white feathers, whatever remnants of his middle-aged years was no longer be distinguished. It was as if this man was someone else entirely.

_Is this really-?_

“Arden…san,” Akira muttered, too shocked to even raise his voice.

“Yes, I’m Arden,” the old man began sternly. “And you are?”

“Horigome,” he answered. “Horigome Akira. I used to date your daughter, Eleanor.”

The man twitched, then lowered his chin.

“Oh,” he said. “Akira-kun. That’s right… I remember you.”

Akira then remembered the matters of common curtesy and presented the man with the bag of bentou boxes.

“I brought you a little something,” Akira said, handing it over to the man before him.

“Thank you, Akira-kun,” the man said upon receiving the gift. “Come in.”

Arden moved aside to allow Akira to enter his space. As he entered, Akira couldn’t help but gape at the sudden vacancy of space within the apartment, contrary to the tiny hallway.

“Please sit down while I go and prepare this,” the old man gestured at the seats. “Would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee? Or-?”

“N-no it’s fine,” Akira waved his hand to decline. “It’s fine, really.”

Akira took off his shoes as Arden passed him a pair of indoor slippers. He thanked him for the gesture as he strode towards the settee.

For reasons on end, Akira dubiously watched the man disappear into the kitchen; ordering his assistant AI to prepare two glasses of barley tea despite Akira’s decline. It surprised Akira to a degree to find a man who was supposed to be a foreign expat suddenly practising the Japanese custom like a traditionalist. The last time he saw this man, Akira remembered how many times Eleanor had chided his father for certain things he neglected to do. He immediately came to a conclusion that it is all possible that Arden must have developed these habits after many years of integration.

“Here you go,” the old expat plonked a glass onto Akira’s side of the coffee table.

“Arden-san,” Akira said with a shallow bow. “I’m so sorry for disturbing you at such an inconvenient time.”

“So rash,” the man commented. “I suppose this part of you still hasn’t changed.”

He clenched his teeth at the remark, chiding himself for his impatience.

“Since you’re so eager to cut corners,” Arden added. “I suppose we can skip the formalities. So, what brings you here, Akira-kun?”

Akira swallowed hard before he began; “I was told to come here by an acquaintance of mine; Tsubaki Michi, I’ve been told that you’ve met him.”

“Ah, yes,” the man nodded. “So he sent you to me now, did he?”

“Well… I asked for his advice and he told me he could help me.”

“You said that the matter concerns my daughter?”

Akira nodded, only to stop short at the realization.

_How am I supposed to bring this up?_

Eleanor had just entrusted him her biggest secret: that she’s been using a device that dampens a psycho pass reading by a handful of digits. That the device was secretly given to her by the man who was sitting across him. And that there was a possibility that Arden didn’t want her to tell anyone about the entire matter.

“…It’s about y-your daughter’s…” he stuttered as he tried to think of better words to say to add to that. “She doesn’t know that I’m seeing you, you see-”

“Go on,” the man encouraged him.

“She’s… well… (How should I put this)… she told me that the wrist-link you gave her was actually a psycho-pass ‘supressing’ device. And that she had been relying it since the day you gave it to her.”

Akira automatically stared at his feet, hesitant to look at the man in the eye.

“The device you gave her,” he continued. “It was stolen while she was walking home. After that, well… her psycho-pass rose up higher…”

He slowly lifted his eyes towards the man across him, only to see a cold, expressionless stare. Akira had always been a man who was able to pick up emotional signals through their body language; but this was the first time he’s never seen someone whose eyes were anything but readable.

The very sight of it sent a chill down his spine, unaware that he was trembling at the sight of Arden’s gaze.

“Arden-san?” Akira asked hesitantly.

The man across him slowly stood from his seat and walked his way around the coffee table.

“Follow me,” the old expat said quietly.

Akira silently obeyed as Arden led him into the man’s study room. As soon as the door slid closed behind Akira, Arden then gestured to a seat as the old man shifted the chair adjacent to the desk to face him.

“How much has she told you?” the man inquired.

“She told me that the device was a gift,” Akira answered. “She told me that her hue at the time was no longer manageable and that the wrist-link made her hue clearer after she wore it every day.”

Arden took a deep breath and huffed.

“Well. That is a problem,” said the expat.

“Why?”

“If that thing is in the hands of a thief, things are going to get out of hand.”

Akira perked his head up, puzzled as he was intrigued by the man’s words.

“What do you mean?”

The old man’s glassy cold eyes darted at Akira’s.

“Are you sure you want to know?” he said in an emotionless gaze. “Because the very moment I explain it to you, everything that you thought you knew will be put under scrutiny.”

* * *

 

A small tap on the glass brought Maki to perk her head up.

Kazuyoshi smiled at Maki almost too happily.

“Good news,” the nurse said. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Who is it?” she asked nonchalantly.

“Someone who could help you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Soapland: aka red light district just in case anyone doesn't know.


End file.
